


The Inviolable Rights of Hospitality

by saavik13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 3rd year, AU, F/M, Family History, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, Mentor Severus Snape, Parseltongue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2019-10-11 12:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17447231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saavik13/pseuds/saavik13
Summary: Harry never wanted to be unique.  He only ever wanted to be Harry, just Harry.  In one brave, or perhaps foolish moment, someone lets him know he is not alone and that changes everything.





	1. Prologue

~ Second Year ~

It happened three days after the debacle that was dueling club. The entire school had turned on him, and Harry was caught between anger and shame as he tried to avoid the eyes of his classmates in the halls of Hogwarts. Hermione was, as always, a solid presence by his side – worried but confident that while he might be going insane he wasn’t evil. Ron, well Ron was being Ron. Why he’d ever expected his best friend to actually understand what he was going through – Ron had yet to really grasp sympathy – he’d at least thought Ron would have stopped talking about Quidditch long enough to show a little concern.

That was uncharitable, Harry chided himself. Ron was always less mature than Hermione or himself. It was just the way it was. It still hurt though.

But that was when IT happened. Harry, feeling slightly aggravated at Ron, and hostel to the world in general, wasn’t paying that much attention to his surroundings. Most everyone had left for the holidays, just a few stragglers left that were leaving in the morning via some other sort of route than the train, and he felt safe wandering the parts of the castle he still hadn’t gotten fully acquainted with. Perhaps it was unwise to go so near the Slytherin dungeons, but with only a handful of the snakes staying behind he’d figured no one would be around. And he was less than concerned about the “monster”, at least as far as his own safety was concerned. Whatever it was, he’d been close by when it attacked before and it hadn’t bothered him. 

Millicent Bulstrode took him by surprise as he rounded a corner and for a moment, just a moment, Harry felt a little bit afraid. The girl was big, bigger even than Crabbe or Goyle, if only by a hair. She was practically adult sized, and according to Hermione rather fast on her feet. But instead of the typical Slytherin sneer at the sight of him, she stopped and regarded him for a moment. Harry dared not move, lest he provoke her, and slowly she came towards him, her eyes racking over him in careful assessment. When she was just a few feet away she stopped.

“You aren’t alone, Potter.” She said it so softly he had to strain to hear it. “Just… just remember that. No matter what they say, it doesn’t make you evil.” 

It wasn’t until she’d already turned and left, disappearing down a side hallway, that Harry realized it wasn’t English she’d been speaking.

 

His first inclination was to run and tell Ron and Hermione. After all, they planned to use the Polyjuice potion in just a few days and if Bulstrode was a Parselmouth, then that meant _she_ might be the heir… Why he’d not considered that the heir could be a girl he didn’t know. Hermione would likely hit him if he confessed that…. But the closer he got to the tower the less sure of the situation he got. 

He was a parselmouth and he wasn’t opening the Chamber. Just because Bulstrode was a little scary in general, and could also talk to snakes, that didn’t make her evil automatically did it? Sure, she was in Slytherin and while Harry didn’t particularly like the House he was pretty sure the entire thing couldn’t be _evil_ , at least not killing-innocent-people evil. Cheating at Quidditch – sure. Bullying people in the hallway – absolutely. Stealing someone’s homework and turning it in as theirs – in a heartbeat. But kill people? The entire house couldn’t be murderers, despite their horrible reputation. If they were, then just getting sorted into it would have meant prison.

No, he couldn’t tell Ron or Hermione. Ron would jump to conclusions and Hermione would… he wasn’t sure what Hermione would do. There’d been a point, in first year, that she and Bulstrode had been on slight speaking terms. Not friends, surely, but at least able to partner together in classes without fighting. Hermione was logical, and not one to jump to conclusions, so maybe she’d be calm about it. But no way could he tell Hermione without telling Ron. And no matter how much Harry distrusted Slytherins he didn’t want anyone else to be going through what he was. And if her secret got out, Bulstrode would be ostracized.

The next day he watched her during the meals in the Great Hall. The other Slytherins seemed to ignore her at best, bully her at the worst. Or at least they tried to, some of the older ones. But the large girl held her own and didn’t react. Soon they tired of their victim not responding and moved on to torment the first years that had stayed. Word came that the carriage that was supposed to take her and two others had been delayed by a storm and he watched her face fall. She’d be staying after all. Bulstrode ate her meals quietly, alone, and when she left the hall no one went with her. In fact, as Harry took to trailing her around the school it became apparent that no body, in any house, wanted anything to do with her – or the other two students whose carriage had been canceled. It was like the three of them were all considered less, and even avoided each other as if to band together would somehow make it worse. 

Her only company, as far as Harry could see, was her cat.

He knew what being that alone felt like.

After the failed attempt at getting information out of Malfoy, Harry made sure Hermione was okay in the hospital wing and then made an escape. He didn’t have much, just the plum cake from Mrs. Weasley, but it was something and he suspected, after watching the way they treated her in the Hall, she probably hadn’t gotten anything from her year-mates.

Harry found her in the far Greenhouse after asking the Friar’s ghost if he’d seen her. Luckily he had, and Harry wrapped his cloak tightly as he fought his way through the snow and darkness to the small glass building. A heating charm kept it warm in there and he found Bulstrode huddled with her cat in the back corner, stroking the leaves of a Mandrake plant. There was a slight happy gurgle coming from the pot.

“What do you want, Potter?” She asked bitterly without looking up.

Harry sat down slowly keeping a good distance between them. “I wanted to see if you’d like to share my cake with me.” He held out the small plum cake. “Mrs. Weasley sent it and she’s really good with cake.”

Bulstrode looked up and frowned. “Why would you share it with me?”

Harry set the plate down between them. The large black cat sniffed the air but didn’t move from its perch on her lap. “Because I know what it’s like not to have friends at Christmas. And you took a big risk the other day…saying what you did – how you did.” Harry blushed slightly and looked away. “I want to thank you for that. You had no reason to trust me.”

Bulstrode leaned forward and sliced off a piece of cake before nudging the plate back towards him. “I had no reason not to either. Aren’t exactly a lot of us around, Potter. I figured… it might help to know you weren’t alone.”

“Thanks.” Harry smiled and took his own slice. “It does actually. I mean, I’m rather used to being a freak but when I came here, well, I thought maybe I’d be normal for once.” He snorted bitterly. “That obviously wasn’t the case.”

“I just want to get through it.” Bulstrode grumbled taking a bite of the cake and nodding approvingly at the taste. “Hogwarts is like a long painful rite of passage that my family must endure every generation. Like a seven-year prison sentence.”

“Is it that bad in Slytherin?” Harry asked, confused.

“It’s not my House, Potter.” Bulstrode stretched and her cat got up with a glare. She mollified it with a corner of the cake. “I mean, _look_ at me. It’s pretty obviously what I am.”

“ah…” Harry scrunched his forehead in confusion. “A girl?”

Bulstrode laughed. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “I guess that’s why you were willing to be nice. You don’t know.”

“Whatever it is can’t be that bad.” Harry said, squinting for a closer look. “I mean, we both talk to snakes. What’s worse than that?”

“Parseltongue is dead useful.” Bulstrode corrected glumly. “Being less than human is just… inconvenient.”

“Oh.” Harry looked at her a little more closely. “You mean, one of your parents isn’t….”

“My dad’s half giant like Hagrid.” Bulstrode admitted quietly. “And my mum is a quarter goblin. And her mum was a muggleborn.”

Harry shrugged. “That must make family dinner rather an adventure.”

She looked up at him and eyed him critically. “No jokes about the less than halfblood in Slytherin?”

“I don’t see how you are less than half.” Harry scratched his head and took another bite of cake. “I mean, giants and goblins have magic right? So what difference would it make even to a Slytherin? I couldn’t care less either way.”

“You don’t know any better. You were obviously raised in a barn.”

“Broom cupboard actually.” Harry confessed softly. 

That earned a genuine laugh from the girl. “Well, if I looked hard enough there’s probably a house-elf in our woodpile too, if it makes you feel better. My family… well, we’ve been outside the norm for a long time. Once you have a kid with a non-human….” She looked down and away. “We aren’t welcome in most places. I know that carriage wasn’t delayed by a storm. They just, they just didn’t want to carry three half breeds home to the village, not even for Yule, and not even with the headmaster paying for it. Nobody goes to ¬¬¬¬¬¬Anhaeddiannol if they don’t have to.”

Harry moved closer so he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with her. The black cat came up and nudged his knee and he reached down and scratched its ears. The creature purred and rubbed its face against him. “I don’t think you’re less than me, Millicent.” He held out another piece of cake. “In fact, you’re more than I am by at least two feet.”

“I can’t help that I’m tall.” She huffed and grabbed at the cake, glaring. “I take after my father.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, did I?” Harry asked, smirking. “At least you don’t have to worry about Crabbe sitting on you and crushing you. If I got any smaller I’d have to borrow Flitwick’s stepping stool.”

That made her smile. “You are terribly short, Potter. Even my mum is taller than you.”

“Makes me a better seeker.”

“Whatever you need to believe to make it through the day, Boy-Who-Lived. Whatever you need.”

 

Harry wasn’t a fool. He couldn’t exactly spend time in the hallways with his new friend conversing in their secret language. But Millicent was right – Parseltongue did have its uses. It didn’t take much to bribe a small snake into delivering messages back and forth. While far from popular, Millicent wasn’t willing to do anything to make life harder on herself in her House, so they kept their face-to-face meetings secret. 

At first it was hard to keep something like that from Ron and Hermione but it was nice, for once, to have something that was just for him. And Millicent didn’t care if he showed up sweaty from practice or if he got his homework done on time. She just appreciated having someone to talk to, someone who didn’t mind if she shared stories about her rather unorthodox family and the village of not-quite-entirely-humans they lived in. And she had a ton of stories, some funny, some sad. But most importantly it was obvious how much her parents loved her, and how much she cared for them. 

But there was something wrong. Harry could tell. As the end of the school year neared he finally asked, “Millicent, why don’t you want to go home?”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked softly, petting her cat slowly.

“To me.” Harry sighed. “I know why I hate going back to the Dursleys, but from all your stories it sounds like you’ve got a wonderful family. I’d trade you in second.”

“I _had_ a wonderful family.” Millicent curled up, clutching her knees. “Harry, I know you lost your parents, but you were a baby. Have you ever lost anyone you can remember?”

“No.” Harry confessed softly. “I can’t remember them at all. And until I got to Hogwarts there wasn’t anybody I cared about enough to miss if they did go away.”

“Mum’s dying.” Millicent confessed softly, not meeting Harry’s eyes. “She has a congenital condition, only goblins and part goblins have it and St. Mungos won’t treat her. They don’t treat mixed species unless someone like Dumbledore makes them and we don’t have the connections to force them to. Dad does what he can, but the treatments are expensive in Knockturn Alley and… I hate to see her in so much pain.”

Harry reached out and took his friend’s hand. “Can’t the goblin’s help?”

Millicent brushed a tear off her face. “Harry, they don’t like us any more than the Purebloods do. Nobody likes a mixed breed.”

Harry frowned. “That’s not right. None of this is right.” He took her hand and held it tightly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Millicent looked down and blinked hard, trying to keep her tears back. “Some things not even the Boy Who Lived can fix, Harry.”


	2. Chapter 2

Harry and Millicent traded letters over the summer using a post owl. Hedwig was too obvious and Millicent was worried that her neighbors would make the connection. Harry thought she was being extra paranoid, but he slipped her a few gallons on the train to rent one for the summer anyway. She didn’t like taking his money, and he had to remind her that he was benefiting from it as much as she was before she’d agree. It was nice to have someone else to talk to, even if it was by owl.

Ron’s letters were always short and light – about nonsense and food and quidditch and the twins. Hermione’s letters were always organized and succinct, short because she got to the point not because she was rushed like Ron, and all about summer homework, the new spells she wanted to try out, ideas she had for projects and things to research when she had access to the library again. Millie’s letters were always long and full of detail. She’d talk about the trip she and her cousin Magnus went on to the swamp to get potion ingredients and how her father got mad at them for bringing mud in the house. She talked about her mother, and the way her breathing was more and more labored. Details – exacting details. But no emotions behind them, not in words. But Harry could read them, in the blank spaces between the lines. Pages and pages of emotions and it broke his heart. 

He didn’t want to break her confidence, but as the letters got longer, and the details harder to read, he had to do something to try and help her and her mother. Mr. Weasley was the only person he knew that would listen, that might know some way to help. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he sent Hedwig to deliver a letter asking him to visit, that Harry had a favor to ask. It certainly wasn’t for Mr. Weasley to ring the Dursley’s doorbell less than 20 minutes after he’d lost sight of his owl. 

Arthur Weasley looked just like Harry remembered him, sort of frayed on the edges but happy, like the wizard equivalent of a well-loved pair of socks. Luckily it was his aunt that answered the door, his uncle at work, or Harry was sure there would have been hell to pay. Mr. Weasley’s attempt at muggle clothes was laughable and it was broad daylight. His aunt pursed her lips, frowned, but let the man in. Harry had no delusion that she did so only to keep anyone from seeing the mismatched rumpled man standing on her doorstep. Harry got them both glasses of lemonade and took his friend’s father into the backyard to talk before his aunt changed her mind.

Mr. Weasley’s eyes swept the house and yard with a critical and slightly disapproving air. “Harry, why aren’t there any pictures of you in the house?” He asked softly, after Harry had motioned for him to take a seat on the bench at the corner of the yard. It was a secluded spot, away from the prying eyes of the neighbors as long as you stayed seated. He caught his aunt’s slight narrowing of eyes through the kitchen window as she pretended to do the washing up to keep an eye on them. 

“My family doesn’t like me much.” Harry admitted. “My uncle wouldn’t have let you in.” Harry blushed slightly. “I wasn’t expecting you’d drop everything and come all the way here, Mr. Weasley. I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

“Nonsense.” The wizard waved off the concern. “I’m visiting a muggle house. It’s a fact-finding mission.” He winked. “Besides, it’s not every day you owl and ask me for something, Harry.” His eyes narrowed and he put a hand gently on the younger man’s shoulder. “Have they been mistreating you again? I had a long talk with Albus after what the twins told me happened last year. I wanted you to come stay with us but there are reasons you had to come back here. But I’ve been popping around every few days and trying to look in on you, as best I could without making a nuisance of myself.”

“Oh.” Harry felt extra terrible. “I don’t mean to be so much trouble, honest. You don’t have to do that.”

Mr. Weasley withdrew his hand with a sigh. “Harry, you saved Ginny’s life. And even if you hadn’t, you deserve some care, care you obviously aren’t getting from your muggle relatives. If there’s anything I can do for you, I will. Even if Albus wouldn’t consent to letting us adopt you…”

He trailed off at the startled yelp Harry gave. “Albus didn’t tell you?” He asked, looking slightly guilty.

“No.” Harry admitted, shaking slightly. “I… you asked to adopt me?”

“Twice.” Arthur admitted in a subdued tone. “Once just after we heard what happened when you were a baby. Molly and I, we didn’t know your parents well – we were older than they were, out of Hogwarts by the time they started actually. But during the war, we’d worked with them quite a bit. We knew you had no living wizarding relatives and we could have made room. But you’d already been placed here by the time we found out and, well, I suppose the rest is history. I asked again last summer but, things are complicated.” He grimaced. “I wish I could tell you more, Harry, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy. But you are safe here, from the people that killed your parents, safer than you would be at the Burrow at any rate. But if these muggles hurt you…”

“No!” Harry denied quickly. “That wasn’t why I owled you, Mr. Weasley.”

“Call me Arthur, Harry.” He smiled slightly. “I’ve never been much of a one for formality.” His smile turned serious. “but if it wasn’t about your relatives, what is it?” 

After swearing the wizard to secrecy he confessed to his best friend’s father that he had another friend – one that needed his help. The story poured out of him in great gushes of words and Harry knew he was rambling but it was such a relief to tell someone. He even pulled out several of Millie’s letters to show him exactly how bad off his friend’s mother was.

“And there you have it, Mr. Weasley. I don’t know what to do, but Millie’s mother is dying and there’s things that can help but they don’t have the money and I’d give them money, but I know they wouldn’t take it.” Harry hung his head. “I keep trying to think of something I can do – I don’t know, an anonymous donation or something? But then Millie isn’t an idiot, she’d know it was me even if my name wasn’t on it.”

“Damn those stupid…” Mr. Weasley rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I knew Agnes in school. She was my partner in herbology for two years. I had no idea she was so ill.” Arthur made a pained sigh. “St. Mungos was founded to care for all magical people, but in the last few decades new rules have been enacted, brought about by blood-purists, to restrict care. She should be in hospital but unless we can get her to the wizarding hospital in St. Petersburg there’s nowhere to treat her. Unless…”

Arthur stood up and grabbed his cloak. “Harry, I need you to trust me. There’s someone else we need to tell about this.”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “Millie would kill me if she knew I told you. She’s got it hard enough without Slytherin knowing she’s friends with me.”

“Just one Slytherin, and trust me, his bark is worse than his…” Arthur trailed off and then looked sheepish. “Actually, his bite is just as bad as his bark, but he’s far more careful where he aims it. What we need is a source for her potions that isn’t St. Mungos or Knockturn. And I know just the person for it.”

His aunt glared daggers at them as Mr. Weasley asked her if it was alright to take Harry on a short trip. He promised to have him back by evening but Aunt Petunia waved him off. 

“Franky I don’t care if you ever bring him back. Just don’t let the neighbors catch sight of you disappearing and reappearing. And get better clothes, you look like a vagabond.”

Mr. Weasley kept his tone polite through the exchange but Harry could tell he wanted to say something more to the woman. In fact, if Harry didn’t know better, he’d have sworn Arthur’s hand had gone for his wand at one point. Apparently he wanted to choose his battles and getting Aunt Petunia’s agreement for the trip was more important than taking her to task for her lack of familiar feeling. 

Arthur lead the way towards the park at the end of the housing edition, scanning the road as they walked. “Harry,” he said softly once they were away from the house. “I know you probably don’t keep up on the Prophet, but…” Arthur grimaced. “There was an… incident. Shortly after we got back from our trip. Someone escaped from Azkaban.” He looked down. “Do you know what Azkaban is?” Harry shook his head no.

Arthur ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Yes, well, it’s the wizarding prison for Great Britain. The man, Sirius Black, was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. We don’t know that he’d try to go after you, but we need to be extra careful. Please don’t wander off and keep me in sight at all times. Albus is already going to have a fit when he finds out I took you past the wards. We don’t need to get anyone more upset if they find out I didn’t take precautions.”

“There are wards on my aunt’s house?” 

“Countless ones.” Arthur confessed. “I could only find it because Albus trusted me to look in on you now and then and he added me to them before term ended. If he hadn’t warded the place so tightly you’d have grown up drowning in reporters.”

“Oh.” Harry shivered. “Good.”

They reached a rather ugly and deserted clearing in the park and Arthur stopped. “This is the only place in the neighborhood where a wizard or witch can apparate from. Have you ever side-alonged?”

Harry shook his head. 

“It’s a bit uncomfortable the first few times. Ron tends to gag a bit.” Arthur warned, holding out his hand. “You have to stay in contact with me for this to work. Ready?”

Harry bit his lip but took the man’s hand. “I guess.”

Mr. Weasley apparated them into a park near a dingy little cluster of row houses. The shock of the apparition took a moment to get over and at first Harry thought that was the cause of his stomach rolling. But as he straightened up, the true cause of his nausea presented itself. They’d appeared next to a grey and dismal river, the contents looking oddly thick and sluggish. His nose scrunched up at the smell of industrial chemicals that seemed to linger in the air from the filthy river. Without a word Arthur started walking towards the row of houses and Harry followed, gazing about in growing concern. The people he saw through the windows of the nearby homes looked tired, and worn. Everything looked tired and worn, and half broken or abandoned – much like Knockturn Alley had on his short visit the previous summer. It felt very similar, like a cheerless soul eating place, and as Mr. Weasley knocked on the most worn and cheerless door of the lot Harry couldn’t help but move behind him, half hidden by the wizard’s robes.

Harry wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Prof. Snape to open the door was not it.

“What do you want, Weasley?” Snape bit out, sounding more tired than angry for once. He wasn’t in his teaching robes, just a faded pair of black trousers and a sweater that might once have had color but was now a muted grey. He was wearing slippers – actual slippers – and Harry stared at them in shock from his hiding place.

“Severus,” Arthur stated calmly, reaching behind himself to pull Harry forward despite his protest. “Harry and I have a private matter to discuss with you regarding one of your students. It requires discretion, for their sake not Harry’s, and I ask you to hear him out.”

Severus’ entire demeanor changed as he caught sight of Harry and the young wizard watched as the older man stiffened, his exhaustion replaced by the familiar mask of irritation and suspicion. 

“Potter, interrupting even my summer holidays with your unconscionable drama.” He drawled.

“Please,” Harry’s voice cracked and he looked down, trying to keep his usual anger from rising to the bate. “Please sir, it wasn’t my idea to ask you for help. I went to Mr. Weasley thinking he might know something I didn’t. I wouldn’t have bothered you. You probably know all about it anyway. She’s in your house. If there was something you could or would do to help, you’d have done it already. If I’d realized you were the person Mr. Weasley was bringing me to see I would have told him not to bother.”

That seemed to get the potion master’s attention. “Who is in my house, Potter? And why would you go to Weasley for help regarding them? Have they threatened you?”

“No!” Harry’s looked up indigently. “Millie is my friend, sir, and she needs help, professor, and I can’t stand to see her…” he trailed off as Snape’s entire expression changed once again. The scowl was replaced with a look of startled confusion and the door opened wider. 

“Come in.” Snape said softly. “I’ll put on the kittle.”

Snape’s sitting room was not what Harry would have imagined if he’d ever bothered to wonder what Snape’s sitting room might look like. The furniture was old and tattered, the curtains stiff with dust, but the books – oh there were books everywhere and Harry could only imagine the joy on Hermione’s face if she’d been standing there with him. As it was, Arthur seemed to know the place at least passably well as he moved a pile of papers off a chair that Harry had thought was a table and took a seat. Harry stayed where he was, just inside the doorway. Snape eventually returned with three mugs of tea from the kitchen and Harry took his with shaking hands.

“Will you sit down!” Snape bellowed and pointed at the only seat open – the one next to him on the tiny moth eaten couch.

Harry lowered himself carefully and took a deep breath, staring at the wall opposite him rather than look at his professor. “Did you know her mother is dying?” Harry asked softly. He could feel Snape stiffen in his seat next to him. “I guess not.” Harry turned to look at him and for the first time he saw some hint of pity in the man’s eyes. “I know you probably think it’s impossible that I care, sir. But Millie and I… we’ve been friends for a while now and even though we have to keep it quiet, she doesn’t want to be even more a target…” Harry trailed off.

Snape’s eyes closed. “Potter…” he seemed to struggle for words for a moment. “Maybe there is a bit of your mother in you somewhere.” He admitted softly and Harry’s head shot up to stare at him in shock. Seeing that reaction the professor sighed tiredly. “That, Potter, is a conversation best saved for another time. Now, what, exactly, has Ms. Bulstrode been keeping to herself?”

Harry told him, about how the girl’s mother was ill and couldn’t get treatment. He told him about how they couldn’t afford the potions in Knockturn and that Harry knew, based on how she’d protested his paying for the owl rental, how they’d never take money from him if he offered. “But she’s dying!” Harry nearly yelled in exasperation. “It’s not charity, she’s my friend and I want to help her!”

“Even if you paid for the potions, Potter, it wouldn’t solve anything.” Snape sighed heavily. “Goblin’s are susceptible to congestive heart failure, particularly those with part goblin and part wizard heritage. There’s something about the mixing of the species that seems to make people particularly likely to come down with it with just the slightest provocation. And those charlatans in Knockturn Alley will take a family for every dime they have, giving them half strength potions so they come back more often and more desperate and more willing to pay. They need access to the real thing – and only St. Mungos carries it.” 

Snape stood up and motioned for Harry and Mr. Weasley to follow him. The kitchen was tiny, even smaller than Harry had thought from what he could see in the doorway, the cabinets a rusted and stained metal that might have once been white but was now a sickly yellow. Everything was scrubbed as clean as Snape could get it, but the age showed on every item in the room. The dry sink was a pitted and chipped porcelain but fairly gleamed as the only actually white thing left in the house. Through the window Harry could see a hand pump near the alley that ran between the houses, a broken brick path leading to it from each of the houses in view. A leaning building along the fence between Snape’s back garden and the house next door appeared to be the only lavatory. 

Snape didn’t give him much more time to look around, instead yanking open the door to the back garden. There was as little space behind the house as in it, but Harry could see where Snape had tried to grow a few of the herbs he’d use in potions. Apparently whatever industry had poisoned the river had also poisoned the land, and only sickly looking blades of overgrown grass and weeds had managed to stay alive. At some point the potion master must have given up and Harry’s heart actually hurt a little to see the abandoned beds that he must have spent hours hollowing out between broken cobblestones. The house next door was abandoned, and he must have tried there to, for Harry could see the same evidence of failed herbology littering an equally bleak looking stone back terrace.

There was a small metal door set in at an angle just before the shared lavatory and Snape yanked the rusted metal twice before it opened. There was a smell of dank rot that lifted up from the cellar but the professor never the less strode down the rickety wooden steps with purpose. Mr. Weasley raised an eyebrow but followed and Harry had no choice but to join them.

Once again the professor surprised him. Whatever had originally been in place under the old row houses it had long been repurposed. Once past the damp and soggy entrance, and through a small wooden door that Snape had to almost bend in half to enter, there was a cavern of a space, the brick support arches for the homes above covered in a liberal coating of white wash and lite by magic torches that sprang to life as they entered. 

“This is my private lab.” Snape explained, some pride clear in his voice. “The cellar spans all the homes in this row. Since only mine and Mrs. Keller’s are still occupied, I walled off her portion from the rest and made some use of the remaining space.”

By something he meant quite a lot. While the house itself seemed to be frozen in a sad and neglectful time, the lab was, Harry got the impression, state of the art – for the wizarding world. There was a wall of potion equipment all neatly categorized and sparklingly clean. There was another room off to the side that glowed with protective wards that was probably where all the raw ingredients were kept. The work tables were all laid out with good space between them, containment charms woven into the stone slab that made up the floor. There were experiments running on two of them, the caldrons bubbling merrily over their magical fires. Clearly Snape spent the majority of his time down here, not in the dreary rooms upstairs, and Harry thought it a vast improvement despite the humidity and heat from the potions.

Snape motioned them towards a free table. “If she’d come to me I would have given her the potions she needs. In fact, I regularly brew them for Prof. Flitwick’s cousin. I can easily increase the size of the batches. The ingredients are neither rare nor expensive but it takes a master brewer to manage the process. It won’t cure her, but it should provide a measure of comfort to her and slow the progression of the disease. If nothing else her quality of life should improve.” Snape took a large cauldron off the wall and set it on his work table. He waved his wand and the wards on the far room fell with a fizzle. “Potter, I need you to get me the following…”

Snape rattled off a long list of ingredients and Harry hurried to grab them, thankful that his professor’s personal stores were labeled and organized far better than the student cupboard at Hogwarts. Of course, given how many students used it daily, that was likely not by Snape’s choice. 

Mr. Weasley watched as Snape brewed, and Harry did exactly as he was told. The potion had a lot of elements to it, and Snape was doing things he’d never seen before – using his wand and several other magical objects to aid in the brewing. Clearly this wasn’t a potion that just anybody could make, and given the expression on Mr. Weasley’s face as Snape muttered a long string of Latin and the potion groaned and turned several colors, it was quite an honor to watch it happen.

With a flourish of his wand Snape set the fire under the cauldron and motioned them towards the ladder out. “That will need to brew for three hours. Until then we may as well go back upstairs. I only have one chair down here.”

After the bright white of the lab walls, the inside of Snape’s house seemed even more dank and dismal. It really was no wonder that Snape had such a dour personality if he’d lived here his entire life. Mr. Weasley and Snape went back into the sitting room and started discussing some business or other with Ministry politics, and Harry took a chance to wander around the small kitchen. There was another door off the sitting room that must have lead to a staircase. Harry could see the rise in the kitchen, where the ceiling was angled to accommodate the stairs. Where other homes would have had a cupboard, the house was so small that a tiny table was fitted half under it. An old apron was hung on a hook, dark with stains and faded by use, Harry could barely make out the berry pattern on the ruffle that ran along the bottom. Like everything else in the kitchen it was clean, free of the dust that lived on everything in the sitting room, but Harry got the feeling that it wasn’t used – not any more. Snape left it there for some other reason and when he brushed it aside to look at the wall a collection of marks and dates, the kind Aunt Petunia used to measure Dudley as he grew, revealed themselves. “Severus, Jan. 9, 1961. 1 year old.” Read the first one, written in pencil on the beadboard, visible more from the indentation it left than in the actual graphite. Once again Harry felt his heart flutter in sympathy.

Snape had grown up here – in this run down little hovel of a muggle house. Poor, without even running water, and based on the lack of any fixtures Harry guessed no electricity either. The cooker seemed to run off of wood or coal and he suspected it was the only source of heat for the house, the chimney running up next to the stairs. There was precious little in the small room to give it joy or personality, beyond the apron, and Harry was surprised when he turned around to find the man in question staring at him not with anger but with curiosity.

“Mr. Weasley has returned home. When the potion is done, we will deliver it to the Bulstrodes and I will return you to your relatives.” Snape pulled out one of the worn kitchen chairs and sat down. “I’m afraid there’s not much for you to investigate in my home, Potter. There’s only four rooms.”

Harry let go of the apron guiltily and let it fall back into place, hiding the growth marks. He pulled out the only other chair and sat at the little table, his head just barely missing the rise of the stair. “I didn’t want to pry sir, and you and Mr. Weasley seemed to want to talk without me. I thought it better I stayed in here.”

Snape gave a weak and bitter smile. “This was always the safest room in the house.” He shook his head. “I never thought I’d see you sit there. Your mother favored that chair. She liked to be able to see out the side window. Why I have no idea. It just looks out onto the road, and the factory lot across it.”

Harry froze for a moment. “Yes, your mother.” Snape sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “I never wanted to have this conversation, Potter. I thought it best you never knew. But Weasley made a sound argument that I should tell you; that there was no one else who could tell you about her.”

“You knew my mum?”

Snape stood and moved to the door into the yard and pointed out the small window. “Your grandparents lived just over there, the other side of the mill in the old cobblers shop. They ran a little store out of the bottom and lived above it, sold cameras and developed film. Lily went to the public school in the next town over, her mother drove her everyday. We didn’t meet except by accident in the old playground by the river, a few years before our letters came.” Snape kept staring out the window. “I hadn’t many friends, as you can imagine, and I saw her doing magic and she was afraid – didn’t know what had really happened. I told her she was a witch. We usually stayed near her house, it was a nicer part of town, but sometimes, when my father was working late, we would come here and mother would tell us about the wizarding world while she cooked.”

“Your mother was a witch?” Harry asked, almost afraid to break the moment.

Snape nodded. “A pureblood from the Prince family. What she ever saw in my brute of a muggle father I will never understand. She left a life of privilege for an outdoor loo.” Snape sneered bitterly out the window. 

Harry laid his head on his arms on the table and looked out the side window at the now abandoned mill stack. It was very weird to be sitting in his potion master’s kitchen, and having a civil conversation, but if his professor had known his mother… Harry was willing to set aside just about all his animosity if it meant a chance to learn more about his parents. “I wish I could remember her, my mother.” He finally admitted, more to fill the silence than to be forthcoming. “People always talk about my father, how I look like him. Nobody ever says anything about my mum.” Snape gave him a questioning look and Harry shrugged. “Aunt Petunia yells at me sometimes, says I’m just like her, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Petunia is a cow of a woman.” Snape sneered and turned fully back towards the room, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “I argued with Dumbledore, tried to get him to let you stay with the Weasleys, or even at Hogwarts, rather than send you there. If she’s half as despicable as an adult as she was a girl…” Snape shook his head. “Horse faced banshee,” he muttered.

Harry snickered and Snape raised an eyebrow. “Fairly accurate description, sir. She certainly yells like one when I burn the dinner.”

“You like to cook?” Snape asked, seemingly surprised.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t mind it so much, at least when I get to eat some of it. There are worse chores. It’s loads better than cleaning Dudley’s room. Dudley’s my cousin and he takes all kinds of food up there and lets it rot and then I have to try and pry it off the carpet.” Harry made a face. “I tell you he’s got to be part troll.”

Snape’s body stiffened a bit. “You don’t always get to eat dinner, not even when you cook it?”

Harry got a funny feeling he’d said something he shouldn’t have. “Ah… sometimes. If, if my aunt or uncle aren’t happy with me.”

“Does that happen often?”

Harry looked away. “Just sometimes. But it’s okay, professor, it is. They usually just leave me alone then, and I can go to my cupboard.” He felt himself pulling back a little into that odd space beneath Snape’s stairs and had to stop himself from sliding off the chair to hide in the corner. 

Snape seemed to sense that he’d reached the end of what he would get out of the boy and changed the subject. “Would you like to see your grandparent’s house? It’s been renovated and a couple have opened up a cupcake shop there now.”

Harry nodded and stood up. “Sure. That would be nice.”

The walk to the ‘nicer’ side of town apparently meant traversing more abandoned row houses and a mostly derelict factory lot. The heavy industry that had made the town had long since dried up and abandoned its workers to even harsher poverty and unemployment. When they reached the street his grandparents used to live on it was only marginally better – a few shop fronts open here and there, a small convenience store, a bar. The cupcake shop was the only thing with fresh paint on it and it stood out like a beacon on the bleak street.

“Your grandmother had been a driver in the war.” Snape said softly while he pointed to a carriage door on the side of the building. “She and your grandfather picked that building because there was enough room for three cars in the garage. Everyone thought he was the one that fixed them up, but it was really your grandmother that was the mechanic – she’d been in the MPC during the war. She’d buy an old car, fix it up, and they’d sell it for a little extra money. Your grandfather wanted to be a photographer but he never made it as an artist. He did the school pictures for all the locals, and developed film, and they got by.” Snape shook his head. “They died too young, a few months before you were born. A drunk driver hit their car and it went into the river.”

“Oh.” Harry blinked to try and get that image out of his head, the filthy river and how horrible that must have been. “My aunt told me that was how my parents died, sort of.”

Snape looked down at him. “What did she say?”

“That my dad was drunk and he killed mom in an accident.” Harry said without making eye contact. “I always thought she must be lying. When Hagrid told me what really happened…” 

“James Potter was many things but he wasn’t a drunk. I’ll give him that much. And he couldn’t have driven a car even with your mother shouting instructions at him. He was hopeless around muggle technology.” Snape sighed and rubbed tiredly at the bridge of his nose. “Potter, there are many things I regret in my life. How my friendship with your mother ended is the largest of them. But I swore the day she died that I’d do what I could to protect you, for her sake, and while I’m not always the most congenial of persons, you should not fear asking me for help.” He turned serious dark eyes on his student. “If those relatives of yours fail to feed you even once I want to know about it. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Harry responded softly. “But it’s really not worth your trouble.”

“I’ll decide what is or is not worth my trouble.” Snape groused. “Now, let’s go down and buy ridiculously overpriced confections so we can reasonably ask to show you around.”

The couple that owned the shop were only too happy to show them around the little apartment that was over the store. It was tiny but it felt well loved, like a real home, and Harry wished he’d gotten a chance to meet his grandparents. The couple had renovated nearly everything but Snape moved with a purpose towards the back corner and in what had become a small office he bent down to lift up a register grate. He reached inside and to the astonishment of both the couple and Harry he pulled out a small book. “I wondered if she left it behind.” He looked down at it and patted the cover. “This was your mother’s room, Harry.” He motioned him forward and Harry went with a lump in his throat. “This book was your grandmother’s first, and your mothers after that. The idea was that this would be a diary of important events, to pass down from mother to daughter.” Snape ran a hand over the window sill. “When we were young your mother talked about how much she loved this place, how she wanted to keep the shop in the family. After her parents died, Lily never sold it – it was only after she…she passed, that Dumbledore liquidated portions of the estate to make it easier to manage that it was sold. I was away when I happened and never got a chance to return for this.” Snape held the book out. “You should have it.” His voice was gruff by the time he finished.

Harry took the small book with shaking hands. It wasn’t a diary really, it was too small, but there were names and dates and little notes about important things. The handwriting changed about a quarter of the way through the written portion and Harry touched the page where the change happened with reverence. 

There was some quiet conversation between the adults that Harry didn’t pay attention to as he clutched his little book. The walk back to Snape’s house was silent and when they finally reached the little kitchen he crawled into the corner under the table without even looking at his professor. The book had just become the most precious thing he owned, and Harry wanted to be as safe as he could be while he read and reread the little notes his grandmother and mother had written to chronical life in the tiny little apartment. 

They just wrote little notes about big things, short and to the point, but Harry quickly found the one from his mother that said, “Met a boy named Severus. Turns out I’m a witch.” This was followed by her Hogwarts letter and a string of random facts before, “Fought with Severus at school. He won’t be coming over anymore.” There was another long break in the dates and then “James proposed. I accepted. I guess this means I won’t take over da’s shop. I’m not sure I’m happy about that part.” A small note under that, “Severus won the big research prize from the Ministry, just like I knew he would.” Then, “We’re getting married in three days. I didn’t tell mom, but I think I’m already pregnant. If it’s a boy we want to name him Harry, if it’s a girl James insists on Rose.” There were tear stains on the next page, “Mum and dad are gone. They didn’t even get to meet Harry.” The ink changed to a bright green, “Read in paper, Severus has his mastery. I’m happy for him but I wish I could tell him that instead of writing it here.” The last entry, “We are going into hiding from the Dark Lord. If I don’t make it back, whoever finds this, please know we were here.” Pasted under the line was a small photo of a baby in his mother’s arms – Lily’s red hair a wild mass of curls making a halo around them both.

Snape left him alone, coming and going several times to check on the potion. When it began to grow dark he lit a lamp on the table and cleared his voice. “Harry, it’s getting late and the potion is nearly done. Why don’t you come out now and help me bottle it? We’ll take it to the Bulstrodes tonight yet and then you can take your book back home.”

The idea of taking the book there, and what would happen if the Dursleys found it, made Harry’s eyes large as he crawled out. “Can – can you keep it?” He asked, shakily. “Until I can find somewhere safe for it? My trunk’s been broken into before.”

Snape eyed him carefully. “May I suggest we put it in your vault, at Gringotts? That’s the safest place.”

Harry nodded. “That’s brilliant!”

Snape rolled his eyes. “I am your professor, Potter. It would stand to reason I have a few ideas you haven’t thought of. It will be too late to take it tonight. I can keep it until we can arrange for you to go into Diagon for your supplies.” 

Harry held the book out reluctantly. “You can read it, if you want, while you keep it.”

Snape took it slowly. “I lost that right a long time ago, Harry, but thank you.”

“What did you fight about? She didn’t say, just that you’d fought,” he asked, instantly regretting it when his professor’s shoulders stiffened.

“She put our fight in the Book of Important Things?” Snape whispered, clearly shaken. “She said only very important things went in there.”

“She put down when you met, when your mother died, when you won some kind of prize, and when you fought. She even made a note about reading in the paper that you gained your mastery.” Harry replied softly. “You are in there more than my dad.”

“Oh.” Severus said in a tight voice. “I… I always thought she was still angry.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry gestured to the book. “She sounded sad. She wanted to congratulate you but thought she couldn’t.”

“It wouldn’t have been wise, not then.” Snape looked down at the book and clutched it just as tightly to his chest as Harry had. “Are you sure you want me to keep this, even for a day?”

“Positive.” Harry replied, more sure now. “I think you need to read that as much as I did.”


	3. Chapter 3

Snape paused as they exited the potion lab, locking it behind them with his wand. “Potter, listen to me carefully.” He turned serious, dark eyes on his student. “There is more going on in our world than you are aware, things the headmaster has deemed you too young to know. There are reasons, beyond my intense dislike of your father, for how I behave towards you in public. Being seen with you outside of Hogwarts is a risk and the only reason I have done so today is that this area is entirely muggle and no wizard is ever going to question these people. Taking you with me now is considerably more dangerous and I am doing it only because Ms. Bulstrode and her family suffer enough at the hands of prejudiced Ministry officials; to deny them aid when I could grant it is anathema to me. Your friendship may be the only bright spot in that poor girl’s life, now or in the future. But they do not need to be dragged into the growing conflict that I expect will soon return in full force to our world; they can’t afford to be. For that reason you must not leave my side, and you will refrain from interacting with anyone, or even making eye contact with anyone, outside of the Bulstrodes while we are there. Do you understand me? It could mean all our lives are forfeit if you are recognized.” He handed Harry a cloak. “You will wear this and keep the hood up until we are safely inside their home.”

A shiver went down Harry’s spine. “You think Voldemort will come back, don’t you? That’s he’s not really gone.”

His professor nodded stiffly. “Yes. The only question is the length of time it will take for him to gather his strength. The incident that gave you that scar has given us a much needed hideous to regroup and plan, but the headmaster and I have always known it was a temporary peace. What happened to Quirrell only confirmed what we already expected. It’s only a matter of time, Harry.” Snape’s eyes glistened slightly in the moonlight. “I yet have hope that we can delay it, at least for a few more years, but He gathers strength even now, searching for a way to return. He will find one. He is brilliant, and resourceful. That was how He attracted so many in the old days. It is a cruel reality that anyone associated with you will be a target once this happens. Granger, the Weasleys, they know and accept this but the Weasleys were already in the fight, and Granger would be a target regardless – being muggle born and as intelligent as she is He will seek to eliminate her on her own merits. But the Bulstrodes are not prime targets, they do not seek power or influence, they do not have great wealth or talent, and they have never taken a side. He will ignore her, unless He learns of you. So for their sakes, we must insure your visit goes unnoticed.”

Harry bit his lip and eyed his professor and the bag of potion vials. “I can stay here, where no one can see me. You can give Millie the medicine and no one needs to know I had anything to do with it. She’s scared enough now of Slytherin finding out we are friends. I don’t want to make her even more of a target if you think that Voldemort might take an interest.”

Snape snorted. “And how, exactly, was I to come into the knowledge that it was needed, Potter? Until you arrived on my doorstep I had no idea her mother was ill. I had even less idea that she had made any friends at all at Hogwarts. I’ve been doing my best to try and mitigate the worst of the bullying she faces but it is so pervasive and coming from nearly every direction…” Snape sighed. “She needs a friend, Potter, as much as her mother needs that potion. What is the point of this war if I can’t even help one of my own students with something so simple as this?” He asked the question more to himself than to Harry, yet the boy nodded.

Snape was silent for a long moment. “I believe they can be trusted – they have no reason to side with the Dark Lord or his forces. Blood purists have as little care for mixed breeds as they do for muggleborns. But that doesn’t mean we take unnecessary risks. You look generic enough in muggle clothes, and out of context it’s doubtful anyone would make a connection between you and I outside of school. Our well cultivated animosity will insure that.”

“You’re a spy, aren’t you?” Harry whispered, understanding finally filtering into him. “That’s what you are trying to tell me without actually saying it? You’ve had to be mean, so if he does come back he’ll think you’re still on his side.”

Snape sneered. “So you go and _say it_., and out loud. Honestly – Gryffindor’s have no more brains than a flubberworm.” The words were harsh but the tone light and Harry thought for a moment he detected a hint of satisfaction in Snape’s eyes. “The Purists think I’m one of them, Potter, in political leanings if not in actual blood. They believe my dislike for my muggle father has turned me against all muggles and that is too valuable an illusion to allow it to falter. But I have no history of animosity towards half-breeds, and Bulstrode is one of my charges. But it is best we proceed with caution.”

Apparating with Snape was considerably smoother than with Arthur Weasley. Harry barely stumbled after they arrived, the cloak Snape had insisted he wear catching on his foot and making him stagger just for a second. He didn’t know if that was because Snape was better at it than Mr. Weasley, or if it was just that it got easier every time you did it. In any case, it was a good thing since Snape had given him the satchel of potion vials and if Harry had fallen over and broken them the entire trip would have been useless.

As soon as Harry righted himself, Snape turned, cape billowing out behind him like his teaching robes often did, and Harry had no choice but to follow the professor as he wound his way through the village. Village was probably giving the place more credit than it was due. They were really more a collection of huts than true buildings. There were 8 in total that Harry saw, all low and squat with thatched roofs and barely any windows. Thick peat smoke billowed out of the stove pipes of several of them, showing they were inhabited, but otherwise the place felt deserted. Apparently, the people here retired with the sun even though the evening was still relatively young.

Snape stopped outside the farthest hut and knocked twice on the thick door. Harry waited behind him, clutching the bag to his chest, and keeping the hood well up to cover his face.

It was Millicent who opened the door and Harry could see that the room beyond was much larger than the outside structure would have allowed. Magic must have expanded the interior space but it still looked as though it was only a single room. 

“Professor?” Millicent asked, her voice going up in question. “What are you doing here?”

Snape stepped to the side and she caught sight of Harry standing in the shadows. Shock and fear flittered across her face. “I….”

“Who is it, Millie?” A male voice asked from inside the small hut. When she didn’t answer right away a large man, nearly doubled over to fit into the hut, came into view. “Invite them in, girl.” He said softly when he saw who it was.

Snape and Harry stepped inside and Millicent bolted the door behind them. The hut was, as he’d suspected, much larger on the inside. The half-giant that must be his friend’s father shuffled over to the side of the hut and folded himself down into a massive chair that was set next to a small alcove. A tiny woman lay on a straw mattress inside the alcove, her face pale and her chest rising and falling with harsh shudders. Harry glanced behind them and saw a similar alcove on the other side of the hut that must have been Millie’s. The center of the hut held a firepit and a large trestle table. Two benches made up the only other seating. The half giant gestured towards them. 

“Have a seat, gentleman, and tell me what we can do for you. Millie hasn’t been misbehaving at school has she?” His eyes tracked to his daughter but without a hint of anger. Harry thought he looked more resigned than anything.

“Millicent is a competent student and a credit to Slytherin House.” Snape spoke evenly before flicking his wand to levitate the benches closer. Harry sat down on one, glad to have somewhere to rest before his legs gave out on him from the nerves. Millie shuffled over to sit next to him, her eyes both accusing and fearful. “Mr. Potter here contacted me with a concern, however, and I thought it best to address the issue in person.”

“Harry?” Millicent asked, her tone angry. “What did you do?”

Harry looked towards the small woman tucked into the bed. She hadn’t even turned her head to look at her visitors, he doubted she was even conscious. “I want to help, Millie.” He turned back to her and reached for her hand. She let him take it and he squeezed it gently. “You know the professor and I don’t exactly get on.” Millie snorted. “But he’s nothing if not fawning on you lot – and he’s a potion master. Why didn’t you ask him for help?”

“We don’t want charity.” Millie insisted and looked to her father who nodded. “I won’t go begging people for things I know I can’t get.”

“You do not have to beg.” Snape cut in, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall rather than taking a seat. “Potter showed a remarkable amount of sense coming to me about this and while I’m sure you are as shocked as I am at his sudden surge of intelligence, it was motivated by a deep concern for you, Millicent. Now, Mr. Bulstrode, it has come to my attention that your wife is suffering from Hefwarts Syndrome?”

“Yes.” He answered, his eyes flickering to his wife’s bed. “Agnes is in the last stages I’m afraid.” He turned pained eyes to his daughter. “In fact, I had half a mind to owl the headmaster and see if Millie could do her lessons correspondence this coming year. I… I doubt her mother will make it till the holidays and…”

“Da!” Millie stood up and moved to hold her father as his large frame wracked with a sob. “Damn the school. Mum’s more important.”

Snape stood and moved towards the bed. “Sir, if I may?” He asked softly, lifting his wand. “I have some experience treating other cases and while I am not a healer I do have far more training than my position would normally grant. I may be able to do some good.”

The large man nodded. “I’ll pay you whatever you want if you help her – I’ll find a way.”

Snape’s expression softened. “A true healer asks no payment and while I was never inducted into that society I hold true to the oath. St. Mungos has lost its way, sir, and those of us with any shred of decency would never deny care or charge a fortune for what relief we can provide. All I ask, or will ask, is that you keep my involvement here private and tell no one of my or Potter’s visit, for the safety of your family as well as ourselves. If you have the funds to pay for the ingredients for the potion she requires, that is fine. If not, we can make arrangements. As for my time,” Snape turned to Millicent. “Your potion scores are below standard but I believe you have enough of a brain to eventually learn the necessary skills to brew the palliative. If you commit yourself to learn it, and share whatever you make with those in need, I will consider my services paid.”

Millicent’s eyes went large. “You would do that? Teach me how to make it and let me share it?”

“I hold the patent.” Snape smugly declared as he moved to take a seat on the edge of the meager mat that held the dying woman. “I can share the recipe with you as easily as I did Mungos. Those charlatans in Knockturn only make a faint replica, not the full version. I wanted to publish it so it could be brewed openly but none of the potion journals would do so for political reasons.” The last two words were snarled with clear contempt. Turning his attention back to his patient, Snape frowned and waved his wand in an intricate pattern over the tiny woman’s laboring chest. A glowing cloud of mist, dark and swirling, appeared. “This has been left to go far too long.”

“She begged me to let her go.” Mr. Bulstrode admitted, passing a shaky hand over his eyes. “We couldn’t afford Millie’s tuition and the potions any longer. She put our daughter first.”

“Da…” Millie cried out and rushed forward. “What are you saying? I…”

“It’s not too late.” Snape muttered. “I can’t reverse all the damage but if we can clear her lungs and chest cavity the potion can at least help her body to ride itself of fluids. It’s not a cure, but if she keeps taking her dosage it should prevent this level of relapse for years. But it will not be easy. Potter, get over here.”

Harry rushed forward to his professor’s side. “Sir?”

Snape turned heavy dark eyes to his student. “I need to perform a very complicated healing charm, Harry. It’s normally done with a triad.” Mr. Bulstrode’s harsh intake of breath told Harry more than Snape’s words did. “Do you know what a healing triad is?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t, sir.”

Snape nodded. “I doubted it. It’s not something we teach at Hogwarts. A triad, Harry, is a very complicated blending of magics between three individuals to create a single spell. In theory any three will do, but in practice it works best when there is a great deal of familiarly between the individuals so that their magic is in tune. If anyone is out of phase with the others it can unbalance the entire spell. It’s particularly ill advised to try with multiple species, for example, since each magical race has a slightly different phase to their magic.” His eyes flickered to the Bulstrodes. “In emergencies triad spells can be done with two, if the pair is sufficiently powerful.” Snape paused. “I often wonder if that is not why you and your Gryffindor comrades are so often successful in your escapades. I have speculated you unconsciously act as a triad when in distress. But that is for another time. For now, I need to ask you a very great favor.”

“Anything.” Harry’s eyes flickered to Millicent’s mother. Her face was grey and lined with pain. As he looked down she opened tired eyes and gazed at him with a look of such hopelessness it made his throat tight. “What do you need me to do?”

“I do not know if this will work.” Snape admitted. “There are only two of us; the spell will be quite draining. I need to borrow your magic, Harry, to make it work, if I can. Your mother…” Snape paused and cleared his throat. “Your mother and I often experimented with dual powered spells in our youth with mixed success. If you inherited a portion of her magical signature I may be able to link with you long enough to perform the spell. Merlin help me, you are certainly strong enough to hold your side – that’s never been in doubt. But how much of you is Lily Evans, and how much James Potter…” He turned dark eyes to the Bulstrodes. “But I cannot promise it will work. Even if I can link with Potter, which is a very large if, with only two we may not have the power we need despite the near vulgar levels the boy displays. He has yet to reach magical maturity and while my own power levels are not insignificant, the spell would be a challenge for most inexperienced triads.”

“We can try.” Harry nodded determinedly, putting aside the question of what Snape meant by ‘displays’. Was he really that strong? And why had no one ever said anything? “What do I need to do?”

Snape waved his wand and the bench flew over. “Sit down.” He commanded. “If I manage this, it may incapacitate you for a few hours. It won’t hurt you, but it will drain you considerably. Myself as well. It won’t register with the Ministry, however, so there is no need for concern over the underage trace. I will be channeling the magic for us both.” Harry hadn’t even thought of that but nodded anyway. “Hold out your hands.”

Snape’s hands were cold when he took Harry’s smaller ones in his, and shaking slightly. “Now close your eyes, Harry. I want you to focus inward. All magic flows from a wizard’s core like light from a single flame. It flickers and banks with each breath, drawing from you and from everything around you. I want you to picture that flame. Can you feel it, deep inside?”

Harry bit his lip and concentrated. He felt a flicker of something along his skin. “What?”

“It’s just my magic, Harry. I’m reaching out, seeking your flame with light from my own. It can’t hurt you.”

“It’s warm.” Harry admitted softly. “Like sunshine.”

Snape’s hands tightened momentarily on his. “That’s a good sign – it means you aren’t incompatible with me.” His voice sounded a little odd, strained. “Let it sink in, down towards your center. Yes, that’s it’s, Harry. Keep thinking about your flame, let it open and meet me.”

Harry imaged it, imagined a flame inside him brightening, stretching to meet the tendrils of warmth he felt flowing from Snape’s hands. Suddenly, like a magnet catching metal, the warmth from within connected with Snape’s and it was like a jolt of lightening passing through him.

“Merlin.” Her heard Millicent breath out. “Da, they actually connected.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it…” Mr. Bulstrode stated. “Look at that, Millie, they must both be almost as powerful as Dumbledore.”

Harry opened his eyes slowly to find Snape staring into his. There was a wild crackling energy around them both and Snape smiled, a real smile. “Well done, Harry. There’s quite a lot of Lily in you after all.” He released one hand but griped the other tighter. “Whatever you do, don’t let go. I have to channel the spell and I need to concentrate on that but there will be a huge backlash if you break the connection.”

“Yes sir.” Harry breathed in awe, watching as the raw magical power flickered under his skin, down into Snape’s arm. “Do I need to do anything but hold on?”

“Hope.” Snape muttered as he pointed his wand at Millicent’s mother. 

There was no verbal spell, just a wash of energy, and it seemed to go on forever. Harry could feel magic flowing through him. As each wave crashed over him he could feel his flame weaken a tiny bit. The longer it went on the harder it was to keep the flow going, his natural instinct to cut it off and keep some for himself but he could literally see Snape pour both their magics into the spell that was now wrapped around the dying woman, lifting her off the bed and into the air as a mist slowly pulled itself from her skin to drip slowly out of her body. The more that dripped from her the better her color looked, the easier her breathing became, and Harry put all he had into sending more power into Snape’s work.

When the mist was nearly gone Snape’s wand wavered and with a harsh indrawn breath he dipped his arm. Agnes dropped to the bed with an undignified plop and Snape snagged back into Harry. The power drain was gone but Harry could feel their magics still swirling together and Snape opened tired eyes to Harry. “If we want to apparate out, may I?” He asked softly and Harry nodded, sending the very last of his energy into Snape. When he did he felt his own body drooping and it was Millicent that caught him as Snape finally let go and Harry’s body slumped off the bench.


	4. Chapter 4

When Harry regained consciousness it was daylight again.  The room he found himself in was small and neglected, the smell of dust and mildew pervasive around him.  The cot he was laying on was pushed against the wall under the window and when he sat up to look outside he was only slightly surprised to see the old mill stack outside.  Snape must have brought him back to his house, instead of to the Dursleys, and put him to bed in the spare room.  Snape’s cloak was under him, acting like a barrier between the ancient filthy mattress and him, and there was a clean if worn blanket laid over him in addition to the borrowed cloak from the night before. 

 

Harry found his shoes next to the bed and slowly pulled them on.  He was exhausted, but that was nothing new.  He climbed slowly out of the bed and managed to drag himself down the stairs and outside to the loo.  There was no sign of Snape, but the door to the other upstairs room was shut, so Harry assumed he was still sleeping.

 

The kitchen proved to have little in the way of food, but there were a few eggs and some bread in the cupboard.  Harry drew water from the well, and managed after a bit of a struggle to get the stove started in the kitchen.  A quick search located a tea pot and a good supply of strong black tea, but no sugar.  Harry put the pot on to boil and while he waited he looked for something to do.

 

The kitchen was spotless, but the front room had been rather dusty.  There wasn’t much he could do to thank Snape for everything, but a little light housework couldn’t possibly be a bad start. It certainly wouldn’t be enough, but Harry hoped it would at least show his good intentions.

 

There were plenty of cleaning rags in a bucket under the dry sink and Harry let the tea steep as he got to work. 

 

It was rather nice to clean something that actually needed cleaned, he thought as he gently dusted around the piles of books, careful not to move anything.  Given the small size of the room the dusting didn’t take long at all.  The tea was more than done by the time he finished and after a little bit of nervous consideration Harry risked a cup.  Snape had seemed to find the Dursley’s lack of feeding him to be a problem, and had bought Harry several cupcakes the day before, so hopefully he wouldn’t mind a cup of tea?

 

Harry was sweeping the floor in the sitting room when Snape came down the stairs.  At first the potion master looked confused to see him standing there, but then he blinked, made a gesture that seemed to indicate he’d deal with Harry later, and staggered out to the loo.

 

Harry put down the broom and quickly went into the kitchen to finish up breakfast.  By the time Snape had returned from the loo and checking his experiments in the basement, Harry had dippy eggs and soldiers laid out on the small table.

 

“If I didn’t know better I’d think I’d acquired a house-elf.” Snape muttered but made no complaints as he grabbed up the cup of tea.  It wasn’t until he was half way through his breakfast he realized Harry wasn’t eating.  Snape eyed the extra food on the serving platter.  “Aren’t you eating anything, Harry?”

 

“May I?” He asked, sliding hopefully down in the chair.  “There were only three eggs and I didn’t want to presume.”

 

Snape raised an eyebrow.  “Well I’m half way through the second so you take that last one, and the rest of the toast, and then we’ll see about getting you actual food before I return you to the Dursleys.  I was so involved with the potion last night I forgot to feed you. You must be starving.”

 

Harry shrugged as he carefully removed the top of his egg.  “You bought me two cupcakes in the afternoon, Sir, and that’s quite a lot more than I’m used to getting at the Dursleys.”

 

Harry couldn’t help but let his eyes slide shut at the wonderous flavor of dippy egg and warm toast, even if there wasn’t any butter. It was probably his favorite food, and Hogwarts never served anything so simple.  He’d shocked Mrs. Weasley when he’d happily eaten them at her house. 

 

Snape was eyeing him strangely when he opened his eyes.  Harry blushed and looked away.

 

A proper meal turned out to mean a trip into Muggle London, where Snape not only took Harry to an actual restaurant for something called ‘brunch’, but marched him into a department store where he unceremoniously ordered an amused saleswoman to ‘make the child presentable – full new wardrobe. His current one is offensive to civilization.’

 

By the time they arrived back at the Dursley’s Harry was in a state of utter shock.  At no point in his life that he could remember had anyone spent so much money on him.  He’d protested, of course, and offered to pay the professor back every cent once he got to his vault, but Snape had rolled his eyes. “If you feel you must, than fine. But it’s hardly a fortune, Potter, and it’s certainly not charity.  It’s a gift to myself so I won’t have to look at the hideousness your relatives dress you in for at least another year.”

 

It wasn’t until Snape had knocked loudly on the front door of the Dursley’s that Harry remembered it was Saturday.  His stomach fell.

 

Uncle Vernon answered the door with a large fake smile that dropped as soon as he saw Harry. “Petunia,” he bellowed, “the boy’s back.”  He moved away from the door and scowled as Snape entered the house, carrying two large shopping bags.

 

Snape turned to Harry and held them out. “Take these to your room, Harry, while I have a word with Petunia.” He ignored Vernon as he moved around the living room towards where his aunt was standing in the kitchen doorway.

 

Harry hastily did as he was told, running up the stairs to put the bags away before sneaking half way down the staircase to listen.

 

“I hoped you’d died.” His aunt complained with a scowl.  “Stealing my sister and making her a freak like you wasn’t enough. Now you’re going after the boy?”

 

Harry could almost hear Snape’s teeth grinding. “Listen to me you incomparable bitch,” Harry’s eyes widened at Snape’s language, “If I thought for one second I could kill you and not get sent to Azkaban for my trouble I’d have burst through that door with my wand in my hand and you’d have begged for mercy before Death finally found you.”  Vernon gave a mighty yell but Petunia only clutched her throat and backed as far into the wall as she could. “I see you remember what Lily told you of my <i>exploits</i>.” Even with his back turned to the stairs Harry could tell there was an evil sneer on his professor’s face. “Good.  Then you will listen to me carefully, Petunia.  That boy is to be fed three meals a day, full meals mind you, and two snacks. Three if he asks nicely.  You are to leave his things alone, including his school trunk and the new clothing I’ve purchased for him.  Once a week you will take him to the free library down the road and you will let him check out however many books he wants, as many as he can carry.  And when someone comes to take him for his school supplies you will thank them, and you will let Harry go without a single comment.  This will be the pattern for the rest of his summers here, unless I tell you otherwise.  If I find out you haven’t done these things, I will come back Petunia.  And I’ll be prepared.” There was dramatic pause.  “And if I’m prepared, I promise you no one will ever be able to trace your bodies back to me.  Understood?”

 

Vernon was yelling, and Dudley joined Harry on the stairs with a confused and frightened look on his face.

  
Petunia pulled herself up to her full height.  “Who are you to threaten us?”

 

Harry could have sworn the room got colder. “I’m a professor at Hogwarts, Petunia, and I swore an oath over the body of your sister that I would protect her child with my life. And I find out you are starving him?  Working him like a bloody house-elf?” There was a crash and Vernon flew backward into the sofa, going arse over teakettle and Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop a laugh. “And I’m out of patience.  The wards need you, Petunia, but they don’t need your husband or your son.  Do you want to try me further?”

 

His aunt shook her head frantically.  “I thought not.” Snape snapped before turning around and glaring at Vernon as he struggled to get back up. “Potter!” Snape bellowed.

 

Harry ran down the stairs to stand in front of his professor. “Yes sir?”

 

“If they touch a hair on you, or break a single one of the conditions I just laid out, use this.” He thrust a small chipped saucer into Harry’s hand. “It’s a portkey designed to take you to my home.  The password is the name of your friend.” Snape’s eyes softened slightly.  “It’s for emergencies, Harry, but do not hesitate to use it if you need to.”

 

Harry clutched it tightly. “Thank you, sir!”

 

Snape hesitated for a moment before he put a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “You won’t have to stay here forever, Harry.  I know it doesn’t feel that way at your age, but you’ll be an adult soon enough and you can burn this place to the ground if you feel like it.”

 

The Dursley’s sputtered but Harry couldn’t help a slightly gleeful grin at the thought.  “That wouldn’t be right, Sir.”

 

Snape’s eyes glittered back at him.  “True.  But then, I assume you know enough ways not to get caught?”

 

They shared a significant look at that and then the professor whirled away and was out the door before Harry could thank him again. 

 

BREAK

 

Harry made a vow a week later that no matter how ugly Snape got in class, or in general, he would love the man for eternity. 

 

Life at the Dursley’s had made such a dramatic shift it was like walking through a dream.  No one talked to him, even Dudley avoided him, but his aunt handed him a plate of food, decent food, three times a day.  And there were apples and peanut butter and a package of crisps in a basket on the broken desk in his room, all purchased just for him that Dudley didn’t even try to take.  He had his trunk back, and as long as he stayed in his room no one did more than glare at his school books.  His chore list had been cut in half and he was finally able to get a little rest. 

  
But the best, the very best part, was the library.  He’d never been allowed to go before, and even though Petunia only accompanied him the first time, to sign for his library card, and he had to walk the two miles alone there and back, it was wonderful.  Snape had only demanded a weekly trip, but Aunt Petunia didn’t seem to care how often he’d go as long as he didn’t ask her to drive him.  Harry fell into a routine of spending the early hours of the morning on his chores before he’d cook breakfast for everyone and then pack himself a lunch.  The walk to the library was pleasant in the morning, not too hot yet, and the librarian at the small branch was much nicer than Ms. Pince.  In fact she seemed to like Harry, and when she realized he liked to read history books she ordered in copies of some popular titles from the larger branch in case he’d like to read them.

 

Harry had never had a lot of time to read, but with the Dursley’s leaving him alone he found that days spent at the library were much more pleasant than he’d have thought.  In fact, by the time his birthday was approaching Harry thought he’d probably miss it when he returned to school.  Not that Hogwart’s library wasn’t more impressive, but it was also not nearly as welcoming as the tiny little one room  branch, with Mrs. Giety and her flower dresses and neat as a pin desk. 

 

Everything was going so well that when his aunt and her horrible little dog showed up Harry was actually polite to her of his own free will.  He even _volunteered_ to cook dinner for the family.  He should have known it was too good to last.

 

Harry stumbled slightly as he lugged his trunk down the street, the screams of his family behind him not nearly as upsetting as they probably should be. There was no way he was going to stick around for the Ministry to come snap his wand, especially if there was some weird new threat after him that Mr. Weasley had hinted at.  It wasn’t until he’d rounded the corner he remembered Snape’s portkey.  Did this count as an emergency, he wondered?  Harry paused to pull it out of his trunk before he sat down on the lid.  The chipped saucer matched the tea set he’d seen in the house. He’d looked up portkeys in one of his textbooks after Snape had left and the book had clearly said they were usually made of bits of trash, disposed of after a single use. This wasn’t exactly trash, and Harry had the mad desire to hold onto it whether he used it or not.  The way Snape talked his mum had probably had tea with this saucer at some point.

 

There was a rustle in the bushes and Harry looked up, wand at the ready, only to be greeted by a rather bedraggled looking dog.  While on the huge side, the black mutt seemed timid and Harry lowered his wand.   He’d seen the dog every now and then on his walks to the library, always from a distance.  Some of the kids in the neighborhood would taunt it but it never fought back. “What you doing out here boy?” Harry offered in a soft voice. “You running away too?”

  
The dog made a slight whining sound and crawled forward a few inches.  The more he came into the light the rougher he looked. Harry frowned and reached into his jacket. He had a bit of bread he’d snagged off the table during his mad dash and he held it out. The dog sniffed the air, his tongue lounging out of his mouth slightly but looked too scared to come forward. Harry tossed it gently in his direction. “I can’t stay here but you look like you need that more than I do.” Harry offered and smiled when the dog leapt forward to eat the bread in one bit.  “I’ve got to get out of here before the Ministry comes to get me. I’m pretty sure inflating my aunt is illegal.”

 

The dog’s head snapped up to look at him as if the dog understood what he’d just said.  “Well she deserved it!” Harry huffed angrily, standing up to grab the handle of his trunk. He started tugging it down the sidewalk again and the dog, surprisingly, followed him. “She called my parents drunks.  They weren’t drunks!  Even _Snape_ admitted that and he hated my dad.” Harry missed the stumble in the dog’s steps at the professor’s name.  “Now what the hell am I going to do?  If I stay here they’ll snap my wand and expel me.  I’ve got who knows how many evil wizards out to kill me for no bloody good reason.  Mr. Weasley gave me some cryptic warning about some prison escape…” Harry grumbled as he labored to pull the trunk. “If Hedwig were here I could owl Mr. Weasley and he’d come, I think.” Harry looked at the saucer that he was still holding in his free hand. “I suppose I could go to Snape.”

 

The dog inched forward and Harry looked down in surprise as it butted his hand. “You think I should?” Harry looked between the dog and the saucer. “Do you want to come with me?  I don’t know if he likes dogs.  He doesn’t really like me, if I’m honest.  If I knew how to get to Millie’s...”

 

There was a whirling and pitching, and Harry yelped slightly when he felt the dog bite into his leg.  When the wild movement stopped Harry didn’t even manage to see where he was before he was throwing up.

 

“What the bloody…” Snape’s angry voice only made the situation worse as Harry heaved for another long moment before he managed to look up. 

 

He was in the middle of Snape’s kitchen, the disheveled dog growling slightly where it was crouching next to him, one paw sitting on the bite he’d left as if in apology. Snape stood in the doorway, a shocked look on his face, his faded dressing gown clashing terribly with a set of the most hideously gaudy socks Harry had ever seen.

 

Snape dropped his mug of coffee and was instantly on the floor in front of Harry, ignoring his sick up, his wand casting diagnostic spells so fast Harry couldn’t even hear the incantations. “What’s happened? What did those muggles do to you?”

 

“I’m sorry.” Harry managed faintly.  “I didn’t mean to do it.”  He looked down, his hand going to touch the dog for the first time, hoping the soft fur would calm him. It was matted and filthy but it gave his fingers something to do and the dog quieted at the first touch.  “She was just going on and on about mum and I couldn’t…”

 

Snape’s expression eased slightly. “What’s happened?”

 

“I couldn’t let them snap my wand!” Harry finally burst out, clutching the dog now with both hands, his trunk and the saucer forgotten.  “I didn’t even mean to come here, what if they look for me here?”

 

“No one in their right mind is going to look for you here, Potter. It’s probably the most unlikely place in all of the United Kingdom for you to be.” Snape stood up and with a wave of his wand cleaned up the evidence of Harry’s post port-key sick up.  “Now, start at the beginning.” Snape’s eyes traveled slowly over the dog. “And wherever did you find that disgusting creature?”

 

Harry haltingly told of his evening, making sure to include every one of Aunt Marge’s insults towards his mother hoping if nothing else Snape would at least get why Harry was angry.  The dog, probably sensing his mood, seemed to take equal offense as the story progressed, his too thin body tensing at each crucial moment.

  
“And then, this dog was there and I was half talking to it, and to myself, and said I wish I knew how to get to Millie’s…”  Harry finally realized what he’d done and sagged. “And I said the password on accident.”

 

“This actually does quality as an emergency you know.’ Snape sighed. “And the dog was touching you when you did it, which would explain how you brought him with you, and your trunk.”

 

Harry shifted slightly to look at his leg.  He’d felt the dog’s teeth but as he looked down he realized the dog hadn’t actually broken the skin.  There was only the slightest impression of teeth. “Yeah, he, he must have spoked when the portkey went off.” Harry petted him a little as the dog whined.  “I gave him a piece of bread. I think he’s as desperate as I am.”

 

“You are hardly desperate.” Snape sighed. “I’ll message the headmaster and let him know what has occurred. Explaining how I ended up with you will no doubt cause some angst.” Snape rubbed tiredly at his face. “Accidental magic, Harry, is not something the Ministry will prosecute you for.  You literally couldn’t help it. But clearly it would be in your best interests not to return there this summer.  The Weasley’s are back from their trip abroad, perhaps he will let you stay with them as you did last summer.”

 

Speaking before he could think better of it, Harry rushed forward. “Could I stay here?”  He swallowed at the astonished look on his professor’s face. “Please? I mean, the Weasleys are great, don’t get me wrong, but… but if there is some new threat I don’t want to put them at risk. And you said it yourself, this is the least likely place anyone would ever look for me.  I don’t take up much space.”

 

“That dog takes up more space than you, those muggles clearly never fed you properly.” Snape groused.  “I don’t even have plumbing in this rat hole, Potter. You can’t possibly want to stay here.   I don’t want stay here!” 

 

“I’ll cook.” Harry offered, “and clean! I’ll even pay you rent.  Just please, don’t make me go back to the Dursley’s.”

 

“If it were up to me you’d never set foot in that house again unless it was to hex your aunt and burn it to the ground.” Snape sat down heavily at the table. “You can’t really prefer to stay here rather than with your friends?”

 

Harry took a shaky breath. “Ron can’t tell me about my mum.” Harry finally admitted, his eyes trying and failing to make contact with his professor, instead shifting to look out the darkened window. 

 

Snape made an uncomfortable sound. “Are you that desperate for more stories of her?”

 

“I only have the pictures Hagrid gave me. And the book you found.”

 

Snape shifted slightly in his seat. “We neglected to put that into Gringotts before I returned you to the Dursley’s.  I intended to return it to you at the school.”

 

“It’s okay.” Harry smiled slightly. “I knew you’d take care of it for me.”

 

Snape looked like he’d eaten a lemon. “If you are determined to remain here,” He shook his head. “I cannot believe I’m offering this.  I have enough of children during the school year.”  His eyes flickered to the dog. “If you insist on keeping that mutt in this house, you will be responsible for him. He chews one book and I’ll turn him into potion ingredients.”

 

Harry scrunched his forehead. “There’s a potion that uses dog parts?”

 

“No but I’ll invent one.” Snape muttered, standing up.  “I’ll message Albus, and then,” He glared down at the dog. “We’ll find a way to clean that thing up. It smells like it was swimming in the river.” 

 

BREAK

 

The headmaster actually showed up after Snape sent whatever message. Harry stayed in the kitchen, but he could hear them arguing in the front room.

 

“Severus, this is utterly reckless of you.  You know the boy is better protected with his family…”

 

Snape interrupted with a huff.  “By protected you mean half starved, worked like a bloody house-elf, deprived of basic necessities, and bullied by a human troll.  The boy would be little better off if he was a house-elf to Malfoys.  I’m surprised they haven’t made him iron his hands – probably just because Tunny didn’t think of it yet.”

 

“Severus, this is not a joking mater.”

 

“Who said I was joking?  Did you ever even set foot in that house? Did you ever check on him?  My god Albus, the boy was scared to eat an _egg_!  A bloody egg!”

 

“You are in no position to take care of the boy, even for the few weeks left in summer.” The headmaster protested, sounding tired.  “I suppose the Burrow would be a good alternative.”

 

“He asked to stay here.” Snape’s voice softened. “Albus, I can’t turn him away.  He’s Lily’s boy.  I’ve stayed away all this time, done just as we’d planed, but I won’t turn him out when he’s seeking Sanctuary.” There was a weighted pause. “If I’d had a place to run to at his age, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

 

“So now you are comparing him to yourself instead of James?”

 

“Hardly.  But once you get a close look at him the signs of abuse are clear.  If he’d been sorted into my house I would have known immediately. But we were set up to be enemies from our first encounter and he never dropped his guard till now.  He’s incredibly adapt at hiding it from people that don’t know him well, a survival tactic.”  The sofa creaked as Snape moved.  “the blood protections have been recharged, Albus. There’s no reason for him to stay with the Dursleys again till next year. If he wants to stay here I can’t think of a place less likely for Black to come looking for him.  And while my home isn’t exactly a palace, it’s slightly better than the Shrieking Shack.  He’ll be fine.”

 

The dog slide closer to Harry and nudged his hand. Harry reached down to pet him, ears still trained on the conversation in the other room.

 

“Just because you feel guilty for what happened with Lily does not mean you should feel obligated to care for the boy.  What about your research?”

 

“Oh don’t go trying to distract me. You don’t care one whit for my research, and if I can manage to find time in the middle of the school while taking care of a hundred needy Slytherins I’m sure one boy won’t pose that large of an obstacle.  And I am guilty for what happened and we both know it.  It doesn’t matter that I gave what was left of my soul to you to try and stop it, we failed.  He targeted the Potters because of me and despite all of our efforts they died.  I will never get the sight of her, dead on the floor of that nursery, out of my head for as long as I live.  I swore I’d protect him, and I’ve done everything I could since to make sure that when that bastard returns I’m in a position to undermine His plans.  But what good is all that if Harry is too broken to live a normal life? What is the point of all this, Albus, if we can’t even protect him from _muggles_?”

 

“So it’s Harry now?”

 

“It’s always been Harry.” Snape’s voice was so soft Harry had to strain to hear it.  “I only ever called him Potter because it was easier to hurl insults at a Potter.”  Snape paused. “Harry was Lily’s grandfather’s name you know.  He died in the Great War, somewhere in France.”

 

The headmaster cleared his throat. “No, I did not know that.”

 

“Lily’s mom wanted to name a son after the father she never knew.  But they only had Lily and Petunia.  Lily was named after her aunt instead, her mother’s twin sister. She died from polio when the girls were just seven, and Petunia was named after their father’s mother who had passed away from the Spanish Flu.  Lily’s parents wanted a whole gaggle of children- to make up for so much loss on both their sides, but after Lily the doctors told them it was too risky to try again.  Mrs. Evans almost died twice during the labor.  Sometimes I think the boy was cursed from both sides of his family tree.”

 

“Severus,” the headmaster tried to interrupt but Snape kept going.

 

“You shouldn’t have sold their house you know, the one here.  Lily wanted to keep it.  Harry should have had some of his grandparents things.  They were all gone to auction by the time I found out what you’d done.  Sadly this hovel is the closest he can ever get to knowing his mother or her parents.  Petunia Dursley certainly never…”

 

Albus cut him off.  “It could compromise everything if someone learns he’s here.  Is that a risk you really want to take?  Just so you can tell him sad stories about people long dead?” the headmaster asked finally, in a tired voice.

 

Snape’s reply was so soft Harry and the dog had to strain to hear it. “Albus, I vowed I’d protect the boy. I never specified how or from what.  With Black free, and the Dark Lord regaining strength, there’s no place safe for him.  Those muggles are abusive and you know it. After what’s just happened I doubt he will ever be taken back by them – if you were foul enough to try and send him back there. And sad stories of the dead are all he can have, and I won’t deny him that meager consideration.”

 

“I already spoke to the Dursleys and they’ve agreed to take him back next summer.  After I reminded them the protection from Lily’s sacrifice only holds for _them_ as well as for Harry if he returns there for a time each year.  Even Petunia Dursley seems to understand the importance of the blood wards.”  The headmaster gave a great sigh.  “I don’t like this, Severus.  While I’m delighted that you and Harry have reached a truce, it will make your role harder if you should ever have to return to it.”

 

“We will deal with that eventuality when it happens.” Snape paused. “You didn’t see him, Albus.  He was so frightened, and angry.  His eyes…  I couldn’t say no.”

 

The talking continued, in more muted tones, and Harry leaned back against the dog. “You know, boy, I think this might be okay.  What do you think?”

 

The dog blinked at him, looking impossibly confused. “yeah me too.” Harry muttered, burying his face in the filthy flank despite the smell. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 “Harry?”  a warm hand settled on his shoulder and Harry jerked awake. Snape was kneeling next to him, a concerned look on his face. “How can you sleep with your face in that muck?” He asked, his tone lacking bite but still with the sarcastic bend to it Harry knew well from class.

 

Harry shrugged and sat up, righting his glasses. The dog seemed to smirk at him. “He makes a good pillow.”

 

“It’s gone midnight but there’s no possible way I’m letting you sleep on my kitchen floor with a filthy mutt for a pillow.” Snape pulled his wand and waved it at the dog.  Whatever cleaning spell he used took away the smell but left the poor thing looking even more bedraggled. “Well that’s apparently going to take a little more effort.” Snape sighed and pointed to the yard. “Harry, there’s a large tub leaning against the house. Can you bring it in here, while I get the soap?”

 

Harry nodded and ran to get the tub.  He pulled it into the center of the kitchen while Snape trudged down into his laboratory to get whatever cleaner he thought the job warranted. The dog looked at the tub and at Harry wearingly but never the less seemed to get that whatever was going on it was for his benefit.

 

Snape returned and filled the tub with a wave of his wand, the water streaming in the open door from the pump.  “No one awake to see us work.” He stated with a little hint of a smirk when Harry’s eyes flickered towards the windows of the one other row house still occupied.  The water in the tub started steaming as Snape heated it before adding a small scoop of some kind of powder that started the entire thing to bubbling.

 

The dog gave a happy yip and jumped straight into the bath, splashing water all over the kitchen floor.  To Harry’s shock Snape _laughed_. “Well now,” Snape smiled slightly as he leaned over to scrub some of the soap bubbles into the head of the dog.  The dog froze at the contact before, with a whimper, it pushed his head into the potion’s master’s hand.  “He’s a little timid but he’s obviously been around people.” Snape scrubbed him behind the ears and the dog’s leg started to thump. “That’s a good boy, aren’t you?” Snape actually _cooed_ at the dog.

 

Harry watched with wide eyes for a moment before he jumped in to help. “I never took you for a dog person.”

 

Snape snorted. “You hardly know me, Potter.  I happen to like animals, far more than I like people if truth be told.”

 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I understand that.  Hedwig used to be the only thing I could really talk to.” Harry paused in his scrubbing. “Do you think she can find me? She was delivering a letter when everything happened.”

 

“I’m sure your owl will find you without a problem, Harry.” Snape smiled slightly.  “Merlin this animal is covered in dirt.”  His smile dropped off slightly as he took in the true state of the creature. “He’s half-starved and covered in sores.” Snape sat back and eyed him thoughtfully. “He’s clearly some sort of hybrid animal, he seems too smart for a muggle dog but I do not know of any magical canine creature that can interbreed.”

 

Harry shrugged. “Maybe Hagrid would know?”

 

“Well assuming we can nurse this beast back to health you’ll have to ask when we return to Hogwarts.  The headmaster won’t let students have pets this size in the school proper, but something tells me Hagrid will probably leap at the chance to care for him for you.”

 

Harry looked at the tender way Snape was handling the dog, who clearly didn’t seem too terribly fond of the potion master given the way he was looking towards Harry as if to say ‘why can’t you be the one doing this?’.  “Are you sure you don’t want to keep him, sir?” Harry asked, only half joking.

 

“Clearly he has already bonded with you.” Snape said without the usual bitterness such a  statement would have warranted from the man.  “But if he warms up to me I would not be adverse.  My quarters are large enough and there is president for professors having larger pets.”  The big dog’s tail started to wag slightly at that. “If I didn’t know better I’d say he understood us.”

 

“Who’s a smart puppy?” Harry asked in a high voice and giggled slightly when the dog gave a happy yip.

 

Snape shook his head.  “Clearly I’m suffering a head injury of some kind.” He stood up and brandished his wand.  The dirty water from the tub zoomed out of the room into the drain in the yard, causing the dog to bark and hop in astonishment before a fresh stream of hot water flew in to dump on the dog’s head.  This repeated three times, much to the displeasure of the dog, before Snape pronounced him rinsed.  Another wave of the wand and the wet floor was clean and the dog mostly dried.

 

Snape and Harry looked at the poor thing. “He looks really sick.” Harry said sadly.  “You can see every rib.”

 

“I think it’s mostly from lack of food.” Snape shook his head. “I’ll brew a nutrient potion in the morning. For now, there’s some rice in the cabinet.  Let’s make him a plate of that and we’ll see about proper dog food later.  There was disinfectant and a mild healing potion in the soap, the sores should heal overnight.  I can brew a dewormer if we need it.”

 

Harry set water to boil for the rice while Snape disappeared upstairs.  The dog, now clean and dry for the first time in who knew how long, blinked sleepily up at him from the floor next to the stove. “Do you like the heat? It’s not cold out.”  Harry asked but of course the dog only blinked at him wearily. 

 

Snape returned just as the rice came off the stove. Harry dished out a little for himself and the professor but put the majority of it into the old cauldron Snape set on the ground.  A matching one was filled with water and the poor mutt ate so fast Harry and Snape thought he fairly inhaled it.

 

“Should I make more?” Harry asked, watching as the dog scooted the cauldron cross the floor looking for every last grain. 

 

“No we don’t want to make him sick. You have to be careful with starvation cases.” Snape advised.  “Come on. I cast a few cleaning spells on my old room. It will have to do until we can get you proper things.”

 

Harry followed him up to the musty room he’d slept in on his previous visit. It was much cleaner, now that Snape wasn’t so exhausted from healing spells, but it still felt sad and unloved.  Snape shuffled slightly in the doorway, almost as if embarrassed. “I never was allowed to decorate as a child.  Since I returned as an adult I’ve barely stepped in the room.”

 

Harry shrugged. “Not much different than my room at the Dursley’s. Only no Dursleys.” Harry grinned. “Love it.”

 

Snape rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Be that as it may, Harry, it’s hardly a cheerful room for a teenager.  Feel free to hang up whatever horrible posters or whatnot you care to.  In fact, tomorrow, we can even charm the walls something other than dirty yellow.”

 

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” Harry advised softly.  “Thank you for this, Professor.”

 

Snape looked up and sighed. “Given the number of nights I slept on your grandparent’s couch to escape my father I can hardly deny you somewhere to go, Harry.  It’s basic hospitality.” Snape motioned towards the chest at the foot of the bed. “There should be some old blankets in there the dog can use as a bed.  He’s too huge to be allowed on the furniture.”

 

The dog, headless of either of them and clearly not expecting any padding, was already curled up in the corner on the hard floor. 

 

“We’ll be fine.” Harry advised, taking notice that his own trunk was now resting against the wall.  “Goodnight, sir.”

 

“Goodnight Harry.”

 

 

Harry woke just before sunrise and was happy to see that while still pathetically stocked, there was at least a better selection for breakfast than the last time.  It was going on 10 by the time Snape stumbled bleary eyed through the kitchen towards the outdoor loo.  Harry shook his head, an exasperated fondness starting to settle over him, as he cracked two eggs and set the bread in the toaster rack on the stove.  By the time Snape came back inside, Harry had a hot breakfast waiting for him. Snape collapsed into his chair, his hand shooting out for the cup of strong black tea waiting for him.  He sneered slightly when he realized Harry didn’t have any food in front of himself and nodded meaningfully towards the frying pan. 

  
Harry turned to the dog, who was happily eating an egg on toast from the cauldron on the floor. “Forgive him, Scruffy.  He’s not a morning person.”  Never the less he retrieved the remaining egg from the pan and made himself a sandwich.

 

Snape scowled. “You named the dog scruffy?”

 

Harry swallowed.  “It’s a work in progress.  Nothing seems to fit so I keep tossing things out there.” He shrugged “I figure at some point he’ll perk up and whatever it is will stick.”

 

Snape snorted. “I’m surprised you don’t just name him something horrid and standard like Fido.”

 

“I tried Blackie but I swear he laughed at me.” Harry took the now empty plates to the sink and then retrieved a pan of hot water from the stove.  He started to prep to wash the dishes when Snape came up behind and plucked the dish cloth from his hand.

 

“You don’t have to wait on me hand and foot.” Snape scowled and with a wave of his wand all the dishes cleaned themselves and flew into the cabinets.  “In fact, the entire house is unplottable by the Ministry. You can use your wand, so long as you aren’t foolish about it.”

 

Harry’s jaw dropped. “You’ll let me do magic outside of school?”

 

“All the pureblood students do. You might as well.” Snape shrugged. “I hated that my mother was a witch and I couldn’t lift my wand without a damn ministry owl landing on the window.  I won’t have you suffer the same indignation watching your pureblood friends come back with all sorts of new skills.”

 

“The Weasleys don’t let their kids do magic.” Harry scrunched his nose as he thought back. “But it would explain Malfoy.”

 

“Draco Malfoy has a contingent of private tutors every summer to try and beat Ms. Granger’s scores.” Snape looked oddly gleeful as he said it. “Little good it does him.”

 

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Careful, sir, it will sound like you want Hermione to beat out your favorite Slytherin student.”

 

Snape smirked. “What if I do?  It’s my secret pleasure in life, Potter, to watch that muggleborn witch do spell after spell better than Draco, on her first try, and him after months of tutors.  It’s like watching karma evolve before my eyes.”

 

“I thought he was like, your godson or something?” Harry asked, curious, as he followed the man into the front room.

 

Snape paused before he pulled a slim book off of one of the upper shelves.  “He is.  And I would do a great deal to aid that boy.  It does him good to have Ms. Granger best him.  His parents have done him no favors by catering to his every whim and excusing his every action.  The real world will not be as kind to him and he fails to listen to me anymore.  Of course, if you repeat any of this I will hex you to within in an inch of your life and deny every word.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Harry sat down on the couch and eyed the bookshelves with interest.  “Hermione would be going crazy if she saw this library.  She’s half mad every summer cut off from her supply at Hogwarts.  Her parents take her Diagon two or three times during the summer but she goes through things so quickly.”

 

Snape handed him the small book and took up the chair.  “If the world was different I would encourage you to invite her here. As it is, we will be giving everyone a false story of the headmaster moving you to a safe house for the summer.  The Ministry has already taken care of obliviating your aunt and the neighbors.  No one will question it, given Black’s escape from Azkaban.  I’m sure Weasley and Granger will press you for details.”

 

“I won’t tell them I was with you.” Harry promised, flipping through the book.  “I’m not a complete idiot.”

 

“Only just.” Snape ground out and Harry had to look up to see the hint of a smile in his eyes to know he was joking.  “That book is a basic primer on magical law.  I suggest you read it.  Given your penchant for finding trouble it would be best if you understood your rights, should you ever find yourself facing a Ministry hearing.”

 

Harry nodded. “Thanks.” He looked around the room and then at his professor. “Do you want me to go outside or upstairs, to get out of your way?”

 

Snape blinked at him. “You aren’t in the way. The dog is blocking the door, granted, but he seems sensible enough to move before I step on him. Why the devil should you go away?”

 

“The Dursley’s don’t like to see me or hear me.” Harry shrugged.  “I don’t know what you expect of me.”

 

“Don’t burn the place down.” Snape stood up, clearly a little distressed.  “I’m not going to make it my mission to amuse you, but you are welcome to read anything you find in here. Stay out of my bedroom, and don’t enter my lab unless you are accompanying me.” He turned to leave the room, stepping over the dog that growled slightly at him when he did so.  “I was thinking we could,” Snape paused a moment and then shook himself. “We’ll go to the city tonight and see about getting some proper furniture for that room. Even if you are only going to be here for a few weeks you should have some bed linens that are newer than your birth certificate.  Think about what color you’d like on the walls, and for the bedding.  I won’t want to spend forever in the store debating.  I’m going to step out to the store for a few essentials food wise. Is there anything you’d like?”

 

The dog made a weird sniffle/snort at that. Harry grinned. “Something for snuffles here.”

 

The dog’s head perked up and his tongue lagged out.  Snape shook his head. “Yes, food for the beast is a must, before he decides to eat us.  But anything you would like?  Beyond eggs of course.”

 

“Ahhh….” Harry didn’t know what to say. He’d never been asked that question.  “What do you normally get?”

 

“Minimal, as you have seen.” Snape leaned back against the doorframe.  “I don’t enjoy cooking.  I tend to pop over to the local for food now and then, if I desire something robust.  There’s usually some bread.  I have a cupboard with a cold status charm but frankly I never use it.”

 

“Oh, well I can cook.  I’m fairly good at it actually.” Harry perked up some.  “Aunt Petunia likes me to do a roast on Sundays, but that’s easy.  I’m pretty good with chicken and pork too.  Lamb is tricky, but I finally got the timing right on it, although with your stove it might be a bit difficult.  I can bake too. If you get some flour and sugar, eggs, butter, milk, that sort I can do just about anything. You have salt, so that’s covered, garlic, potatoes and onions maybe? Whatever meat looks promising.  I’ll work with whatever you decide on.  Some sort of veg, of course…”

 

Snape’s eyes widened slightly. “Dear Merlin you _are_ a house-elf.”

 

Harry blushed slightly. “I like to keep busy.”

 

“If you enjoy it, by all means you are welcome to take possession of the kitchen.  But you are under no obligation.   I won’t have you slaving away out of some false sense of indebtedness.  You owe me nothing, Harry.  You owe no one anything.”

 

Harry shrugged and looked down, his fingers tangling in the dog’s coat.  Snape sighed.  “Alright, I’ll order up a pantry full of whatever the clerk thinks normal people stock.  Merlin knows this house won’t have ever seen it since my mother passed, but it will at least give you something to do putting it all away.  And old Franklin will be amused by it.  He’s always harping on me to eat something other than tea and eggs.”  Snape turned and waved his wand changing his robes into muggle style trousers and shirt.  “I won’t be gone long.  The wards will keep everyone but the headmaster and I out, but I haven’t added you yet, or the dog, so stay inside the house or the courtyard out back.  If you exit you won’t be able to get back in.”

 

“Thank you.” Harry supplied softly. “You don’t really need to go to extra trouble.”

 

Snape didn’t turn around, but his voice sounded slightly hollow and his back stiffened. “To my everlasting shock, you are not trouble, Harry.  In fact, you are shockingly un-irksome.” With that, Snape opened the door and stepped out.

 

Harry sat for a moment, his hand still tangled in the fur of the dog, before he sighed and stood up, setting the slim book down on the sofa.  “Well, Snuffles it is then since you didn’t bulk at it.” The dog looked startled for a second before it settled its head down on its paws and whined slightly. “Too late.” Harry advised him with a smirk.  “You let your stomach talk and now you’ll have to live with it. I’m tired of guessing.  But in the meantime, Snape’s gone.  Which means we can snoop.” 

 

That got the dog’s attention. His head shot up and he leaped to his feet, his nose to the floor as he started to sniff around.  Harry chuckled. “I don’t think he’d even mind but honestly I can’t _not_.” Harry started in the corner scanning book titles.  “The house is so tiny, Snuffles. I can’t imagine what it was like for him growing up here.  No wonder he’s so…. Snape.  I mean you smell that awful river every time you step outside.  It wasn’t that much better where mum grew up, but at least the view was a little nicer.”  Snuffles paused in his sniffing to look towards Harry with a quizzical expression on his doggy face. “Snape took me there when Mr. Weasley brought me to visit last month.” Harry supplied with a shrug.  “It’s a cupcake shop now.  They did a decent dreamsicle flavor but I think their icing is too sweet. It distracted from the cake. But then I haven’t a big sweet tooth.  I’m sure Ron would have loved it.” Harry turned back to the bookshelf.  “It’s nice having someone to talk too, Snuffles. I talk to Hedwig of course, but she isn’t always here.  She’s a good owl, and likes to be working.  Sometimes I write letters to Hermione and Ron just to give Hedwig something to do.” 

 

Snuffles finished sniffing out the room and pawed at the door to the upstairs. Harry nudged it open and the dog ran up.  Harry put down the book he’d been flipping through and followed him. Snape’s bedroom door was open, and Snuffles ran in and proceeded to sniff around. Harry waited on the tiny landing.  “I’m not going in there. He asked me not to.  But let me know if you sniff anything interesting.” 

The dog snorted, and seemed to double his sniffing efforts but eventually after he’d sniffed everything three times, including crawling under the bed, he reluctantly came back out onto the landing and padded down the stairs.  “Not sure what you expected to find.” Harry shook his head.  “He’s got less in there than I have in my trunk.  I think all he owns are books and potion supplies, and a few sets of robes.”

 

There were only four rooms in the house, and since one was apparently now Harry’s, and empty except for the cot and his trunk, that just left the book shelves in the sitting room he’d been scanning.  Snuffles turned around three times on the thread bare rug and laid down while Harry started to read the titles out loud. He was only about half way through when Snape returned, two very large shopping bags in his arms. Harry rushed forward to take one.

 

“Franklin is sending his boy around with the rest later.” Snape advised, shuffling into the kitchen with his purchases.  “But there’s enough here for us to have a decent lunch.  He sent over two sandwiches done up as well; he’s a thoughtful man.”  Snape pulled them out and set them on the table before he reached into the bag in Harry’s arms and pulled out a bag of dog food. “He’s sending a bigger bag over later, but for now I thought this might be sufficient.” He poured the food into the cauldron on the floor and Snuffles went over to sniff it.  The dog eyed it sideways before he stuck his head in and ate every crumb. 

 

“Franklin said he wanted to meet you at some point.” Snape continued, helping to unload the two bags and pointed out which cupboard was charmed to stay cold so Harry could put the milk away.  “When I told him Lily’s boy was staying with me he insisted.  He always liked your mum.  He and his wife Else used to play cards with your grandparents once a week.”

 

“Really?” Harry asked, a little shocked. He never thought about there being people that would _know_ his family in the muggle world. Which was stupid – he knew his mother was muggleborn. 

 

“This isn’t exactly a bustling metropolis, Harry.  Nearly everyone here worked in the mill, or supported the people that did.  Everyone in the neighborhood knows everyone else. Your grandparents were shop keepers, they had relationships with all the other small shops in town.  Franklin’s store was where everyone shopped, still shops.  He’s quite old now, his grandson is planning on taking it over, but you can’t get Franklin to leave his register.” Snape seemed oddly pleased by this.  “Now sit down and eat your sandwich.  Would you like tea or milk with it?”

 

“Milk would be lovely.” Harry replied, sliding into the chair half under the stair. They ate their lunch without conversation and when they finished Snape transfigured his clothes back into robes and then hesitated, his hand on the door.

 

“I need to work for a while in the lab. Will you be alright up here?”

 

“Sure.” Harry replied with a shrug. “I was only half way through reading the titles on your bookshelves.”  


Snape snorted.  “I haven’t child proofed those. If something bites you scream.”

 

Harry laughed knowing he was only half joking. “I’ll be sure to stomp a few times too.”

 

That got a smile out of the dour man. “If you need me you know how to get to the lab.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

The afternoon passed pleasantly, interrupted by a few trips outside for Snuffles, and the arrival of the rest of the groceries, but on the whole it was really nice to just relax somewhere he felt safe. Harry considered tiding up more, but given Snape’s insistently calling him a house-elf, he thought better of it.  Still, a new layer of dust had settled in the sitting room since he’d hastily cleaned it the last time, and he never did get the base boards, and there were some smudges on the wall… 

  
Dear lord he was a bloody house-elf.

 

With that awful self-realization, Harry sighed and put down his book and went into the kitchen, Snuffles getting up to follow him.  “What do you think for dinner?” Harry asked, opening the cold cupboard and eyeing the packages from the butcher. “We have some sausages I see, or maybe a simple pie? I don’t know what he likes.” The dog snorted. “Right, he says he never cooks, so anything is probably better than tea and bread.  There’s a chicken but I think I’ll do that tomorrow, with a proper spread.” Harry pulled out the sausages and got to work making a potato and carrot bake to go with them.

 

 The little oven in the stove wasn’t large enough for him to do a dessert with the potatoes cooking,  but Harry figured if he made a fruit pie it could bake while they ate.  There were some lovely berries and a few apples that would do nicely along with a handful of rhubarb.  Harry hummed a little to himself as he started on the crust, using a fork to mix since he couldn’t find a proper pastry blender. He was just rolling out the crust when Snape returned from the lab.

 

The wizard stopped in the doorway, surprise on his face. “You are making a pie.”

 

“There’s a potato and carrot casserole in the oven right now.  I was going to fry the sausages.” Harry supplied, smiling as he turned the roller to spread the crust evenly.  “I was going to make berry pie with the rhubarb but if you want something sweeter I can make plain apple or just leave out the rhubarb.”

 

“I…” Snape shook his head. “rhubarb is a particular favorite, Harry. Thank you.”  He finally entered and closed the door behind him. “You have flour on your nose.”

 

Harry reached up and rubbed his nose. “Oh, thanks.”  


Snape smirked. “You just got more flour on your nose.”  He chuckled slightly.  “Is there anything I can help you with?”

 

“Oh, ah, no?” Harry flushed. He wasn’t used to anyone asking that.  “The casserole needs about an hour I think. I was going to put the pie in while we eat dinner.”

 

Snape nodded. “I messaged Arthur earlier and asked him to come round.  With you here it’s about time I did something about the state of the place, and he knows far more about building charms than I do.  Is there enough to invite him for dinner?”

 

“Yes.” Harry smiled happily.  “I can pull that little stool in from the sitting room, or we can set the table up in there, once I clean the flour off it?”

 

“I’ll get the stool. It used to be in here anyway.” Snape moved off to find the stool and Harry finished the pie, setting it on the drain board to wait it’s turn. He was just starting the sausages when there was a knock on the door. 

 

Arthur Weasley looked mildly surprised when he came into the kitchen. “Have you been missing Molly, Harry?” he asked, watching as Harry quickly washed down the table.

 

“I like to cook.” Harry supplied with a shrug. “Ron didn’t let me alone long enough to help when I visited or I’d have likely spent the entire time with Mrs. Weasley.”

 

“Well if the smells in here are anything to go by you’d give her a run for her money.” Arthur smiled and sat down.  “Severus is trying to decide where he wants the bathroom.  By the time we are done remodeling I’m sure we’ll need every crumb.  Building spells take a lot out of a person.”

 

“Can I watch?”

 

“You can help.” Snape supplied, walking into the kitchen.  He eyed the room, which seemed even smaller with three people and a dog in it. “Why don’t we start in here?  This place could use a few more feet at least, and we’ll want to run plumbing to the sink.”

 

Harry watched, fascinated, as Mr. Weasley explained that magic plumbing didn’t require laying pipes to a sewer like muggle plumbing, but worked with a cistern and a waste line with a magical “trap” at the end that simply banished the dirty water.  “We can put the clean water cistern in the basement in the corner of the lab if that works for you,” Mr. Weasley advised, “and charm it to refill from the pump easily enough.  The waste trap is a bit harder.  Normally you’d want that as far from the clean water as possible just in case the charms failed.  But, excuse me for saying this Severus, the house is not very large. Even with expansion charms we won’t get that much space out of it.”

 

The potion master made a dismissive sound. “Let’s put the cistern out in the courtyard. We can lift the tiles out there. There was an old one already – muggle – that failed when I was a boy. They just filled it in with rubble. We can probably repurpose the space.  That way we can put the trap in the lab.” 

 

Harry turned the sausages and moved them off the direct heat and followed them outside.  There was lots of wand waving to set up wards so the muggles couldn’t see what they were doing, a little rough language as they argued about what to do first, but about fifteen minutes later a solid little cistern was under the flagstones and the two wizards covered it back up.  Mr. Weasley then turned to look at the house.

 

“I suggest we bring the entire back out about say 10 feet?  That way we can get the cellar steps inside.” He suggested. 

 

Snape nodded. “That would be coinvent. We’ll have to put charms on it so the muggles don’t notice.”  
  
“You said the two houses next door were empty?” Arthur eyed them with a gleam in his eye.

 

“Actually I bought them. I had a mind to combine the properties but I haven’t had a chance.” Snape gave a disgruntled sigh. “My idea was, if I combined three single room wide houses I might actually have what could pass for a decent home.”  


“Well no time like the present.” Arthur rolled up his sleeves. 

  
“I need to check on dinner.” Harry advised, eyeing the two with  slight concern.  “Is it safe to be in there while you do whatever it is you’re planning?”

 

“Oh certainly.” Arthur waved him off. “We’ll need a third wand for the dangerous bit.”

 

Snuffles seemed to share the concern as they both slipped back inside.  He was just dishing up the dinner and slipping the pie into the oven with both men came inside.  “We need you, Harry, if you are wiling.” Arthur supplied slipping into his seat.  “Severus says you can do duel powered spells?”

 

“Yes.” Harry stroked the dog’s head when it bumped into the bottom of the table.  “We did a healing spell on Millie’s mum.”

 

“That’s incredible.” Mr. Weasley leaned forward and patted his shoulder.  “Severus said it should have been a triad.  Well, I don’t know if we can make a triad, but if you two could do a healing triad as a pair then the house expansion should be easy for you if we can’t.  Now, I should warn you, these expansion spells aren’t exactly perfect.”

 

“That would be why the Burrow looks like it’s cobbled together out of four other houses. It was.” Snape advised, pulling out the stool and leaving the second chair to Harry.  “This will result in a very similar aesthetic, but in brick.  Hopefully a little more regular since the houses here are all identical.”

 

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Harry asked.

 

Snape smiled softly. “I’ve wanted too for some time, it’s why I purchased the other houses when they came up for sale.  But I didn’t want to impose on Arthur for help and I wasn’t sure how to do it myself.  Expanding the lab was as much as I dared.  This is an excellent excuse.”

 

Both men seemed to enjoy the meal, and thanked him repeatedly. When they finished Harry checked the pie, and thought it needed a few minutes.  “Let’s go out back then and finish the expansion.” Arthur advised.  “We drew the runes we needed before we came in. So now we just have to power it.”

 

The three moved outside, Snuffles following them, and once they were gathered in the courtyard Arthur directed them to stand next to each other.  “Now Harry,” he began.  “There’s an incantation but Severus said the last time you did this sort of thing he just directed the magic for both of you. Are you comfortable with that?”

 

“Sure.” Harry shrugged. “Will I pass out again? I don’t want to burn the pie.”

 

Snape snorted. “Of course your main concern is dessert instead of magical exhaustion. No, Potter, you won’t be using enough energy for that.  If Arthur and I were to attempt this by ourselves yes, we’d be in a similar state. But there are three of us this time, and Arthur and I while not nearly as compatible magically, have done this once before, with Bill.”

 

“Severus helped us with the last Burrow expansion.” Arthur smiled. “We had a big party, the summer before you met Ron.  We added on the dining room. I’m happy to be able to pay him back.”

 

Snape held out his hand. “Just like last time?”

 

Harry took it, Snuffles moving agitatedly near his feet. “Just send you the waves, like before?”  


“Exactly.” Snape smiled at him, a real smile, and Harry relaxed, closing his eyes. 

 

“Remarkable!” Arthur’s excited voice almost broke his concentration but Harry fought to keep his attention on the flickering flame at his core.  It was easier this time, and he felt the warmth from Snape even more keenly.  “You two are perfectly aligned!  If I didn’t know better…” he trailed off, then Harry felt a slight jolt.

  
“Arthur’s joining us.” Snape explained, squeezing Harry’s hand. “You are feeling him.”

 

Mr. Weasley’s magic wasn’t as warm as Snape’s. Not that it was cold, it just felt slightly off, distracting.  Harry’s forehead scrunched.  It was like a car with a wheel slightly underinflated.

 

“I’m afraid I’m not as good of a match.” Arthur apologized. “I suspect you two could do this by yourselves but I’ve more experience with the charms.  It won’t need to last long.” Arthur began chanting, Snape picking up the cadence, and Harry could feel the magic move between them, he and Snape feeding energy to Arthur and after a few minutes the dissidence between them seemed to steady and ease, as if they were getting used to each other.  When the chanting stopped Arthur pulled back from them slowly until it was just him and Snape again.  Harry opened his eyes and looked to where his hand was still clasped in the potion master’s.

 

Snape’s pale fingers curled around his own slightly tan ones, and a visible crackling energy seemed to pulse between them.  Slowly, he felt Snape pulling his own energy back and Harry matched the feeling, until he was his own flame again.  It felt rather lonely.

 

Snape cleared his throat and reluctantly let go of his hand, as if he too felt it.  “That seemed effective.” He finally managed and Harry turned to look up at the house. 

 

Instead of four separate row homes, there was now one small one on the end, the only one still occupied by a neighbor, and then one long bank of wall.  It wasn’t perfect, there were bricks laying at odd angles here and there, but it wasn’t nearly as disjointed as the burrow. The roof was the worst bit, dips and twists to the three chimneys making it look slightly comical.  The back of the house was much closer, the extra feet making the courtyard half the size it had been.  The remaining neighbor’s home now looked like it was dwarfed.

 

Snape made a couple complicated wand movements and the house flickered for a moment. “Charms so that muggles see exactly what it looked like before.  Can’t have anyone notice.” Arthur explained as he worked.

 

They all made for the door and when they entered the kitchen Harry did a double take.  The tiny room was now twice the size it had been, and there in the middle of the floor was the opening for the basement.

 

“Well that won’t’ do.” Arthur mumbled and made a complicated move with his wand, and the steps down into the cellar slowly slide to the side, tucking under the other staircase.  The little table migrated to where the stairs had been, and now the marks on the wall and the apron hung over the open space that lead down.  Another few flicks of the wand and a little conjured railing popped up to keep anyone from falling into the space.

 

“Thank you, Arthur.” Snape gestured to the table. “Do you think the pie is done?”

 

Harry pulled the pie out, and cut it into three large pieces – they’d been right, that much magic left him starving even though they’d just eaten.  “This is so weird.” Harry finally managed, and watched in awe as the two men did something else complicated and the sink suddenly had running water.

 

“How do muggles do this?” Arthur asked as they headed into the now expanded sitting room with their plates.

  
“Lots of people, lots of noise, and weeks of building.” Harry shook his head as he saw how much space there now was.  “This is really really weird.”

 

“I can do minor adjustments.” Snape surveyed the room, seeming to find it pleasing if the little quirk to his lips was any indication.  “Perhaps I can even add a proper fireplace – the original was built for a tiny coal stove before mother converted it.  You could fire call but it was too small for anything else.  It would be nice to be on the floo.”

 

The door to the stairs now had another door on the other side of it that opened up into what had been the next door houses and what was now a large empty cavern. A few minutes later it was turned into a study and a dining room, with a small washroom.  The stair case was opened up and what had been three tiny sad little houses looked for all the world like a proper respectable home.  Snape seemed very pleased and Arthur looked quite proud of their work. 

 

“This is incredible.” Harry couldn’t stop gawking as the two wizards made walls appear out of midair.  “How did you learn all this, Mr. Weasley?”

 

“Well, we haven’t a lot of money.” He confessed, blushing slightly.  “My father didn’t either.  He had to learn what he could to keep the house up himself and he taught me.  Of course, that house burned down in the war.  Molly and I, we had Bill and Charlie at that point, and we needed somewhere to live, and all we had was the empty lot.  But then we found out muggles just tore down houses they didn’t want anymore!  Well, we found a few that were going to get demolished, and Albus helped us buy them. The muggles thought we were taking the parts or something, but we just took the entire thing and remade it. You see, when you expand a house you aren’t conjuring materials out of nothing.  All the walls we are putting up we are taking down from somewhere – just moving things around.  Nothing is created, just repurposed.  I found a book in the Hogwarts library on theory and taught myself the rest.”

 

“it’s ingenious.” Harry was really truly impressed.

 

“Oh, it’s nothing like a real wizarding architect would do, but it gets you by in a pinch.” Mr. Weasley brushed off the praise.

 

“You are too modest, Arthur.  You are a master at this, truly.” Snape complimented him.  “And the offer stands. If you and Molly want to do another addition just ask. I’ll be glad to help.”  
  
“Me too.” Harry jumped in. “I want to learn how to do this! It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen!”

 

Arthur turned red. “Really, Harry, it’s not how proper wizarding folk does things. It’s considered a bit… low.”

 

“Well I don’t care. It’s brilliant. I’ve always loved the Burrow, and this is… this is even better.” Harry turned around several times in the new entry way. “What does it look like upstairs?”

 

A few minutes later and there was an entire hallway of bedrooms and Harry had his own bath for the first time in his life. “I don’t really need an ensuite,” he protested.

 

“Hush.” Snape advised, eyes twinkling.  “We have the space now and why not?  Let’s both be decadent.”

 

Snape’s idea of decant apparently involved his own bathroom, a small sitting area, and a large balcony to overlook the courtyard.  It was still modest, compared to the huge washroom and closet the Dursley’s had, but then Snape seemed to like things simple. 

 

“I’m afraid we are out of building material to spell.” Arthur sighed as they finished. “Just enough to put in a few more cupboards in the kitchen.  There isn’t enough for furniture.”

 

“Harry and I were going to go shopping this evening but it’s getting late. We can buy some tomorrow.” Snape glided down his new expansive staircase.  “I can’t thank you enough, Arthur.”

 

“No thanks needed, Severus, truly.  This has been fun!” Arthur nodded, as if satisfied with what they’d done. “I wish you’d asked sooner. I didn’t know you owned the other houses or I’d have offered ages ago.”

 

“I didn’t want to impose.”

  
“We Order members look out for one another, even in peace.” Arthur advised, clasping him on the shoulder. Snuffles whined slightly and moved closer to Harry. “Now, I’d best get back to Molly.  I have tomorrow off, which is good. This has been rather tiring, but she’ll want me to recount everything in case we had a good idea to copy.”

 

“The children are almost grown but if we get another house, we could do that pass through bathroom easily enough, make things a little easier for you.” Snape started to walk him out and Harry stood at the top of the new stairs and just tried to take all the changes in.

 

“This is just too much, Snuffles.” Harry could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “He’s doing all this, and he made a space…” Harry sat down and buried his face in the dog’s fluffy neck. “Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me.”

 

Snuffles whined slightly and curled closer.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The next day Harry woke and it took a moment for him to get his bearings. The room had grown in size the night before but it was still completely empty except for the little cot and his trunk. Sometime in the night, Snuffles had had a nightmare, and Harry had crawled out of bed to sleep on the floor next to him. The dog was warm and it was kind of nice to have his comforting weight so solidly next to him even if they were on the floor. A hoot from the window drew his attention and Harry stood up quickly to let Hedwig in. “Hey girl.” He stroked her head gently and took the letter tied to her leg. The owl hooted fondly and then flew over to inspect the now awake Snuffles before moving to perch awkwardly on the window sill.

Harry looked around and sighed. He’d not grabbed her cage when he’d left the Dursleys and there wasn’t a good perch in sight. “I’ll find you something girl. Snape said we were going to go shopping today. There’s been a lot of changes since I sent you to deliver a letter to Hermione.” The owl made a soft sound, fluffing out her feathers as if to say it was alright, she’d make do. “It’s loads better here.” He said softly, stroking her again. “And you see we have a new friend. Hedwig this is Snuffles, Snuffles meet Hedwig.” The dog stood up and moved closer, before sitting down directly in front of the bird. The two eyed one another for a moment before Hedwig gave a hoot and started grooming her feathers. “I think that means you’re accepted.” Harry advised, going to sit on his bed and open his letter.

Hermione’s letter was short, as usual, but Harry appreciated the few stories she shared about her family’s trip to France. Her grandmother lived there and Hermione liked to visit whenever she could. She asked about their summer homework, happy to have heard that Harry had finished his during the few weeks after the Dursleys had been threatened. Harry hadn’t told her what had caused the change, but only mentioned how glad he was for it. She had sent several book recommendations, for his recreational reading at the library, and Harry smiled when he saw how extensive the list was. It would take him two summers to read all of it!

Harry took a quick shower when he was done with his letter, immensely glad that there was now indoor plumbing. He hadn’t been looking forward to washing in the tub like the dog. By the time he made it down to the kitchen Snape was actually awake and arguing with the stove, trying and apparently failing to get the toaster to heat. “Here,” harry offered, taking over. “Sit down and drink your tea. You aren’t awake enough to play with fire.”

Snape grunted but did as suggested, and by the time Harry slid a plate of toast and jam in front of him he’d drunk two cups of tea and at least seemed able to string words together coherently. “You are not a morning person are you?” Harry asked, amused.

“No.” Snape bit into his toast and sighed. “If left to my own devises I wouldn’t get out of bed till noon.”

“Well it is summer. Why don’t you?”

Snape huffed. “I have too much to do. I have some rather delicate experiments I run in the summer months that I cannot do at the school. They require too much attention and effort. I try to get as much done as I can while I have the luxury.”

“Oh.” Harry bit his lip, carrying the plates to the sink. “I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

“You aren’t.” Snape stood up, his chair scraping the floor. “I need to do a bit of work but I’ll be free after lunch. Would you like to go shopping with me for some things for the house?”

“I don’t want to cause you trouble.” Harry started the water in the sink and frowned when it only ran cold. Apparently they’d only put heating charms on the bathrooms “Can you show me the charm to heat water?”

Snape did so and watched as Harry copied him. “We need to get you a book on household charms. You should know that already.”

“Hogwarts doesn’t exactly teach us this stuff you know.” Harry smiled as the water started to steam. “Hermione asked Mrs. Weasley to teach us, but she only showed Hermione a few things. She didn’t seem inclined to show me any.”

“Mrs. Weasley’s family were traditionalists. She probably doesn’t think a wizard will ever need them. I’ve argued for years to include a home magics class but the board of governors thinks it’s unnecessary – Purebloods the lot. Either they have elves or they learned from their parents and just can’t imagine anyone not knowing.” Snape waved his wand and spoke a different spell and the dishes started to wash themselves. He flicked his wand and they stopped. “Can you repeat that?”

Harry tried. It took watching Snape twice more before he got it but soon the dishes were happily washing themselves and Snape actually smiled at him. “Will you be alright again on your own? I won’t be more than an hour or two.”

“Of course.’ Harry looked around the much larger space. Everything had expanded yesterday, but the new materials were filthy from having come from the abandoned houses. “I might clean for a while.” At Snape’s look Harry shrugged. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

“The rules of hospitality would dictate you NOT, but if you insist, at least use magic.” Snape quickly showed him a few other useful spells, had Harry repeat them, and then nodded in satisfaction. “There. Now go practice. At least if you are doing that it’s not like you won’t be getting something out of it.” Snape turned sharply and marched down the new stairs, muttering the entire way about odd boys that liked to do housework on their holidays.

Harry spent the morning cleaning, humming happily to himself as he did, while Snuffles watched him with a confused expression on his doggy face. “What?” Harry finally asked as he changed the water in the bucket for the fifth time. “I like to keep busy and I like things tidy.” The dog laid it’s head on its paws as if to say ‘I can see that- the what’s bothering me.’

Harry should have felt a fool taking to a dog, but Snuffles seemed to understand him rather like Hedwig did, and having spent a lot of time talking to an Owl it just seemed natural. So Harry kept up a steady stream of babble as he worked. He was just lamenting that without him he was sure the roses in Aunt Petunia’s garden would suffer when Snape returned.

The potion master surveyed the now gleaming kitchen with a somewhat pained expression. “I’m glad you found something to enjoy yourself with, but having a guest working is… I’m fairly certain my mother is turning in her grave.”

“But I like being busy.” Harry argued, for what felt like the 100th time.

“I know, which is why I’m letting you. But would you consent to taking a break to go shopping? We do need actual furniture to fill this space.”

Harry looked around and silently agreed. The tiny table looked ridiculously lonely in the now large kitchen. “At least let me help. You only did this because of me.”

Snape sneered. “I did this because it was past time to do it – you being here gave me the swift kick in the pants I apparently needed. My _parents_ were dirt poor, Potter, I’ve just been too busy to do anything about it. Money was not the problem. Potions patents are fairly lucrative, I assure you. Now come on. Let’s see what’s available locally before we resort to some sort of muggle box store.”

Snape changed into muggle clothes and Harry put down some extra food for Snuffles before they left. Cokesworth was starting to grow on Harry, the dank depression of the streets was still there of course, but somehow it felt… familiar now, in a way it hadn’t before. Or maybe that was just him, feeling more connection now that he knew his mother had grown up there. The walk to the commercial section of the city was pretty short – the shops butting up to the old mill workers neighborhood. In the distance Harry could see more cars moving around, and lights, indicating there may be a more modern set of shops somewhere but Snape obviously had no desire to venture that far, or, more likely, not having a car and there being no readily visible public transit, it was just too far to walk.

The cupcake place that had replaced his grandparent’s shop was open, and Harry waved at the nice woman who was changing out the front display. She waved back. It was pleasant, Harry thought with a small smile, to have people recognize him as Harry, not as the Boy Who Lived. The little corner market that had sent the food around was about a block further into the old downtown and an elderly man was sweeping the stoop. Snape nodded in his direction and the man returned the gesture. People really all did know one another.

Most of the store fronts were closed, but there were a few stubborn souls still trying to eek out a living in the face of a collapsed economy. There was an auto repair place doing at least a little business if the two autos waiting out front were any indication. The veterinary office looked nice, with flowers out front and a little statue of a pointer poised next to the sidewalk. There was a dance studio on the second floor of one building that had a Chinese restaurant on the ground level. Harry couldn’t tell if either was still open or not, but the signs were still up at least and said they wouldn’t open till afternoon. The gym was closed, the machines looking sad and dusty behind the grimy glass, but the shoe repair place was surprisingly lively and open with its glowing neon boot tapping away. They rounded a corner and Snape led them over towards a rather large building with a green door and a faded metal sign, “Gabe’s Furniture,” Snape explained in a rather resigned tone of voice, “Has been the only furniture retailer in Cokesworth for decades until that vile Ikea opened up. I refuse to buy furniture from a cardboard box.”

Harry had no idea what an Ikea was but that was fine because as the door opened Harrys’ breath caught. This was not a store, not like the proper stores Aunt Petunia always talked about and that showed shinny adverts on the telle. No, this was a maze of treasures, half broken and in need of repair antiques, well-loved and well-worn heavy wooden monsters, and he was in love.

Snape froze in place. “What the… the last time I was in here it was all organized. This is, this is insane.”

“Tell me about it.” A voice complained from behind a large settee that was standing on its arm. “My uncle just can’t stop buying things at auction and now we have this.” A young woman came out from behind the piles and waved her arms dramatically. “Cokesworth started to go under and Uncle Gabe started buying expecting that someday things would look up and people would need furniture again and this is the result. Three decades of hoarded junk.”

“It’s not junk.” Harry argued softly, greens eyes wide at the wonder of forgotten items. “It’s perfect.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t my long lost cousin are you? You sound like uncle.” She shook her head. “Feel free to poke around. If something falls and crushes you we aren’t libel – I’ve warned you. Everything is 80% off. I’m trying to downsize this mess before Uncle gets back.”

“Where is Gabe?” Snape asked, poking at a side table that tilted alarmingly to the right.

“Hospital.” The woman leaned back against a positively hideous orange desk. Harry kind of liked it. “He had a small stroke but he’ll be alright. Finishing up his physical therapy.”

Snape nodded. “Tell him Eileen Snape’s son asked after him. He won’t know me by name, but my mother worked for him for a time years ago.”

Harry, not knowing Gabe and more interested in diving into the piles, lost sight of the two as they discussed the neighborhood, the fate of Cokesworth, and whatever else adults talked about when they had no idea who each other was but a shared history. Most of the front of the store was filled with colorful but dated pieces, things Harry suspected were from when Snape was a child, but the further back you got the older the items seemed to get and as he rounded a hat stand he saw it – the most gorgeous thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

It was dark, the stain starting to crackle slightly with age, and the feet were clawed like a bird holding a ball. Each leg was hand turned and the doors on the front were inlayed with lilies, the wood darker now but once probably close to white. The backboard came up to dainty little shelves that surrounded a large oval mirror with a delicate oil lamp hanging in front. Something about the piece called to him, like his wand or his broomstick, like it belonged with him.

“Harry, did you find something?” Snape called and Harry had to swallow before he could answer.

“Yeah.” He called out. “Left side, behind the hat stand with the stuffed eagle on it.”

Snape’s footsteps sounded loud as he made his way back only to stop abruptly behind Harry. “Merlin…”

“It’s beautiful.” Harry ran a hand over the sideboard, his fingers brushing the burnished brass of a door pull.

“How did Gabe get this?” Snape’s voice was slightly unsteady. “This was your grandparents’, Harry. Your grandmother’s father made it – he was a carpenter. They didn’t have room for it here but your grandmother had it in her bedroom instead of a dresser. She couldn’t bear to part with it. It had been her father’s wedding gift to her mother. There used to be…” Snape turned around in a circle, and made a noise, before moving quickly over to another pile of stuff and brushing a throw rug off the top of another piece of dark wood. Harry moved over to look at it.

“Is that…”

“Your mother’s Hogwarts trunk. It was the last thing your great-grandfather made before he passed, or least one of – he made a pair. Mum,” Snape cleared his throat. “My mother made the necessary modifications on them.” Snape trailed his fingers over the lid, then used his sleeve to clean the dust off the top. Beautiful purple and blond wood was inlayed in a matching pattern to the sideboard, but with ivy trailing around the flowers to spell out Lily Evans.

“He made two trunks?” Harry asked, already guessing at who had the second one. When he’d peaked into the professor’s bedroom from the doorway he’d seen a trunk pushed to one side and covered with a blanket. The bottom corner had had the same claw and ball foot, where the ball was a wheel.

“I looked for this at Godric’s Hallow, after.” Snape admitted in a strained voice. “It wasn’t there. I thought for sure she must have left it at Potter Manor. I never thought it would have been at her parent’s house, but then, I suppose it makes sense. She did go home for a time before she married.”

“Uncle got all that at auction.” The woman quietly informed them. “He said the family was old friends of his. He didn’t understand why the eldest daughter didn’t want any of it. The sideboard is huge and houses around here don’t have big dining rooms – nobody could fit it. And who wants a trunk with someone else’s name on it and with a lock and no key?”

“Did he get anything else from the Evans?” Snape asked, his eyes still glued to the trunk.

The woman shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m going to the hospital tonight, I can ask.”

“Whatever you have we’ll take.” Harry stated, and then made meaningful eye contact with the professor. “And you will let me help purchase it if need be. I don’t have anything…”

“Of course we’re buying it!” Snape interrupted, his eyes flashing. “Every last thing.”

Their enthusiasm, and the prospect of an easy sale, motivated the woman. Rather than wait till evening she left them in the shop to unearth the two known pieces and lug them to the front while she went to ask her uncle if there were more. With her gone, they were able to use magic to levitate the sideboard which was a good thing – Harry suspected it weighted a ton and he did not want to know how his grandparents had managed to lug it up the stairs to their second floor home. There were some scratches on it, likely from being moved, but overall it was in excellent shape. The trunk had clearly been used, with dings and scratches from seven years of Hogwarts showing on the surface but Harry did not care. It had been his mother’s!

Gabe’s niece returned with a bounce in her step. “Uncle says there’s a desk around here somewhere and a couple chairs. He sold the sofa and the coffee table years ago but they weren’t handmade stuff, out of a catalog he thought. And there should be a box of linens; he claims he wrote their name on the side.” She eyed the extracted sideboard and trunk. “You two worked pretty fast. I wasn’t sure how you’d get them all the way to door.”

“We had to move a few things.” Harry grinned at her. He turned to say something to the professor but he’d already disappeared back into the piles, clearly on the hunt for the other items.

The two chairs, once found, were ugly. They looked like wing backs that someone had chopped the upholstered arms off and replaced with bent wood. And they were covered in a shaggy fabric that couldn’t make up its mind if it was gold or green. Never the less, Snape carried them carefully to the front as if they were actually made of gold. Family heirloom material they were not, at least in Harry’s opinion, but he’d never seen his professor look so intense before so he did his best to lug the second one up without being too obvious in his opinion on them.

The desk was clearly not made by his great-grandfather -the workmanship was not in the same league at all. It was just square and utilitarian, and reminded Harry of his old teacher’s desk from primary. Yet it too went to the front along with a leather rolling chair that had clearly seen better days. Snape, seeming to realize the need to explain bit out, “They were in your grandfather’s office in the shop.”

The box of linen was under a very very ugly lamp that Harry was delighted to learn had nothing to do with his grandparents because he would have seriously questioned their taste it if had. Inside there were a lot of doilies. A LOT. Two tea cozies crocheted in truly eye watering colors, a few pillow cases with some fancy edging, and some sort of bed cover thingy rounded it out. The box went promptly to the front.

Harry eyed the growing pile and then turned back to look at the sea of unexplored stuff. “How are we getting all this back to the house?”

“Oh, I’ll have my man Reg drive it around.” The owner’s niece advised, looking up from the clip board where she was marking their selections. “You two need anything else?”

Snape nodded. “Yes, a kitchen hutch and maybe a prep table, and a dining room set. The boy requires an entirely new set of bedroom furniture with a wardrobe preferably.”

The girl smiled so wide Harry thought she might hurt herself. “We have a lovely antique dinning set that came from a big manor house out north – it’s just over here.” She bustled away and Snape motioned for Harry to dive back into the fray in search of his own things.

Eventually Harry decided on a rather plain bed set and wardrobe that looked sturdy. It had little acorns carved into the tops but was otherwise just a nice honey colored oak, aging towards the darker orange range that showed it’s age. Reg showed up and helped Harry start to pry it loose and drag it to the front. Snape, meanwhile, was working with the lady to pull a really heavy looking table up, complete with twelve chairs. Why Snape would ever need twelve chairs was a mystery but hey it was his money. Harry wasn’t going to argue with the man.

Harry found a little metal kitchen table with an enamel top with strawberries on it, that while it made Snape raise an eyebrow, was pronounced good enough to serve as a desk for his room. The matching chairs were missing but Gabe’s niece found two in the same style but with lemons. The professor marched up to the front carrying a large plant stand with a long arm on it that would be perfect for Hedwig, and Harry found a huge old wardrobe that just screamed Snape for the potion master’s bedroom. A few random bookshelves joined their mass purchase along with a few other odds and ends that caught either of their fancies – a lamp, a door stop shaped like a cat, and a library card catalog being the most memorable. (Snape wanted to catalog his books – Harry just liked the little cast iron cat.)

They spent far too long in the store and by the time they left it was getting dark and they had two truckloads of furniture following them back. “How exactly is Reg going to help us get this all inside without realizing the house isn’t exactly normal?” Harry asked quietly as they neared the house.

“The wards are charmed to keep muggles from noticing things out of the ordinary. He’ll go back and won’t be able to remember anything odd at all.” Snape explained.

Snuffles was pacing agitatedly inside the door when they got back and seemed angry for some reason. Harry patted him and let him out back and then helped Reg and Snape to unload the truck. While Reg went back for the second load, Harry washed potatoes for dinner and let Snuffles sniff him over twice. Clearly the dog had some form of separation anxiety.

“We still need a few rugs.” Snape announced as he came into the kitchen. “I levitated the sideboard into your room – it’s your family heirloom and there was space. So I need to get something else for the dinning room. It looks a little bare. Maybe we should replace the soft furniture in the sitting room, and the parlor is still empty, and new mattresses wouldn’t be amiss.”

Harry shrugged and dished up the fried potatoes and slid a pork chop onto his professor’s plate before turning to the stove to dish up the spinach. “How often will you even use the parlor?”

“I rarely get to have fun, Potter. Let me indulge without reminding me of reality.” Snape sat down at the table and eyed the new to him kitchen hutch and the long standing height table that now graced the once tiny room. “Now that the place doesn’t make me want to burn it to the ground, perhaps I will have someone over on occasion.”

Harry really wanted to ask who but wisely chose not to. It seemed that his professor wasn’t necessary as anti-social as the entire school thought. Underneath he was a little lonely if Harry had to guess. “You should invite Mr. Weasley back to see it when you are done.”

“We will.” Snape promised, and then gave his attention to his dinner and the growing list of items he wanted to purchase that he was jotting down on a scarp of parchment.

Snuffles just look back and forth between both of them as if he thought they’d lost their minds.


	8. Chapter 8

After dinner, they transfigured their old beds into mattresses for the new ones, and Snape spent a few hours walking the house and making his list even longer. Harry was slightly disturbed by the sudden desire for domesticity his professor was displaying but then, if it was his house he’d have been replacing things too. Plus, he got the disturbing impression that it wasn’t natural, his professor’s distance from other people, that it wasn’t really what Snape wanted. He rather reminded Harry of a skittish cat, one that wanted petted but had been hurt too many times to risk it. Here Harry was, offering company and some form of support even if it was in a weird and twisted way, and Snape was opening up a little under the attention -being allowed, or allowing himself, to do things he never had the courage to do, or to let himself do, until he had a good enough excuse.

Clearly Harry was an excuse and not the cause but frankly he did not care one bit if they had a hall table or a runner – what exactly was a runner anyway?

The next day Snape spent the morning at his potions as usual and then Snape apparated them to Cardiff and Harry learned what an Ikea was. While the shop in Cokesworth had been a sea of used furniture chaos, Ikea was just… organized chaos. He preferred the shop in Cokesworth. Never the less they dutifully ordered new mattresses, and a couch, several rugs… Harry lost track. He got a set of new pans though, which he was actually mildly excited about though he tried to hide it. It was pretty clear from the saleswoman’s face that most teenage boys weren’t excited about cookware.

Honestly was there anything about him that wasn’t freakish?

They arranged for it all to be delivered later that evening, grabbed some lunch at a little curry shop, and were back in time for Snape to do his afternoon potion tending. When the stuff arrived Harry helped the muggles carry it in and then when they left he and Snape floated it all to the proper spots. The large dog bed he’d gotten Snuffles was, admittedly, a little much, more like a toddler bed than a dog bed, but given the happy yips it was worth it.

They fell into a sort of routine, with Harry puttering around the house and cooking meals, spending most of his day reading or playing in the park with Snuffles. Snape spent his time with cauldrons, or watching Harry with a slightly confused expression, as if he couldn’t figure the boy out. Nutrient and growth potions found their way next to Harry’s plate, and Snuffle’s food dish, and after a couple weeks they both started to fill out. Harry was, for once, _content_. Sure, it wasn’t as lively as time at the Burrow, but it was so much nicer than the Dursleys.

It was just a shame summer was short.

As the time for classes to resume approached, Snape seemed to grow moodier. “We need to arrange for you to get your school supplies.” Snape finally announced, just a few days before term would resume. “I cannot be seen with you in Diagon.”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own supplies.” Harry smiled a little. “You know that right? I can shop unsupervised.”

“Not with Black out there and not if I have anything to say about it.” Snape glared down at his tea cup. “You aren’t safe.”

“When am I ever safe?” Harry asked, not really joking. Snape’s head snapped up and his dark eyes bore into Harry. “Except here. I’m perfectly safe here.”

When the professor didn’t say anything Harry sighed. “I usually go with the Weasleys.”

That just made Snape glower. “Molly is a capable witch but she has too much dividing her attention with that gaggle around her. No, Potter, you will have a personal escort. The Headmaster has arranged for the new defense professor to take you, as much as that pains me.”

It was Harry’s turn to slump into his chair. “I haven’t a very good track record with DADA professors. So far they’ve all tried to kill me.”

“Hence my displeasure.” Snape rubbed at his eyes. “I offered to Polyjuice myself but Dumbledore feels you should have _fun_ on the trip and that somehow you would not with me.”

“You’re plenty of fun. We bought furniture!”

Snape snorted. “I doubt most children find furniture purchasing to be an activity to great with enthusiasm.” He stood up and moved their breakfast dishes to the sink. “I’m to apparate you to a neutral location in London in about two hours. Lupin will be taking you for your supplies. While I am not particularly fond of the man, I highly doubt he will try to kill you. At least not this part of the month,” Snape muttered under his breath. “He was friends with your father.” He added almost as an afterthought.

“Really?”

“The only one at all tolerable.” Snape grudgingly admitted. “A good student.”

“Hagrid got me an album with pictures of my parents in them. Could you point him out, if he’s in there?”

Snape nodded and Harry bounded up the staircase to get the album. It took several minutes, and several deep breaths from Snape before he finally settled on a photo. Harry’s parents were laughing, his mum in a white gown, holding a knife getting ready to cut the cake. “There,” Snape pointed at a man hovering at the edge of the photo. “This was their wedding I presume. That man there is Remus Lupin. And that,” he pointed at another laughing wizard, who was tugging on his father’s arm. “That is Sirius Black. I believe he was your father’s best man. They had a muggle ceremony, I’d forgotten that.” Snape’s finger traced the image before he slowly pushed it towards Harry. “The skittish fellow next to Lupin was Peter Pettigrew.”

The Sirius Black in the photo looked nothing like the wanted posters. It was hard to imagine the man laughing in that photo could have possibly been in league with Voldemort. Lupin looked ill and his photo self kept trying to scuttle off the page. “I can’t imagine Ron or Hermione…”

“I would not have thought Black capable either, and my intense dislike for him is legendary.” Snape’s voice was clipped and vibrated with emotion. “Hagrid had a hard time getting photos for this. Nearly every photo of your father had Black in it too. I remember him complaining that the only picture of them cutting the cake was this one.”

“I want to know what he looked like.” Harry admitted softly. “They must have been close.”

“They would call each other brother.” Snape paused and then turned away. “He was also your godfather. If any of them had been likely to betray you parents I would have suspected Pettigrew. He was always the weak one of the group, the tag along. If they hadn’t all shared a dorm I doubt they’d have paid him any mind at all. Pettigrew was never particularly bright, and he craved their attention in an almost unhealthy way. I would have expected Black to have died rather than… I am rarely so wrong about the character of a person.”

“Why didn’t Mr. Weasley tell me Black knew my father? He only said he was a supporter of Voldemort.”

Snape winced slightly at the name but shook it off. “He may not know the full story. Or, it could be Dumbledore told him not to say anything.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And did Dumbledore tell you not to say anything?”

“Not in those exact words.” Snape sat back down at the table and Harry closed the album. “He was worried that if you knew the truth about Black you’d go after him.”

Harry took a deep breath. “I can’t say I’m not angry and I don’t honestly know what I’d do if he was standing here in front of me. But I’m not crazy enough to go looking for him. I’ve only had two years of school. What would I do? Try to kill him with a tickling charm?”

That made Snape smile slightly. “If you could hold it long enough it might work.”

“Lumos him to death?” Harry offered with a small smirk.

“Your defense professors have been rather pathetic.” Snape replied back with a roll of his eyes. “I should have spent the summer catching you up. We’ll add it to the agenda for next year.”

Harry’s heart gave a lurch. “I can come back?”

Snape slowly turned to look at him. “You are never going back to the Dursleys, Harry. I can promise you that. If I have to burn that wretched house to the ground with them in it – whatever it takes.”

The casual offer of arson and murder should have made him leery. Instead, Harry couldn’t stop the tears that gathered in his eyes. When he leaned over the table to hug the man he wasn’t sure who more startled.

BREAK

Snuffles was not happy to be left behind but then the dog was never happy to let Harry out of his sight. They had to lock him in the kitchen so they could apparate out of the back garden in peace.

The park they arrived in was dingy, the sort of depressing public park that Aunt Petunia would turn her nose up at and that Uncle Vernon would angrily accuse of housing drug addicts and prostitutes. The man waiting for them just looked kind of homeless, if truth be told. His clothes were old and faded, visibly mended in several spots, but without wrinkles or dirt. He was wearing an extra layer on top of his shirt even though it was August and quite sunny. A nasty scar ran down one cheek and he looked far older than in the picture Harry had seen. Time had certainly not been kind to Mr. Lupin.

“Lupin.” Snape greeted with a sneer.

“Severus.” The man replied, his eyes looking a little droopy until they landed on Harry. “And Harry.”

“Prof. Lupin.” Harry held out his hand and tried to hold back his excitement. “Prof. Snape said you were to be our new Defense professor.”

“Yes.” Lupin smiled at that and shook Harry’s hand quickly before letting it go. There was a slight tremor in the older man’s arm and hand that he tried to hide by tucking it into his robe pocket. “Do you have your list?”

Harry patted his pocket. “Yup.” He turned to Snape and gave the man wide grin. “Anything you need from the Alley, Professor?”

Snape shook his head. “No but do be careful. I’ll meet you back here at 4pm sharp.” He paused. “Curry for dinner? I’ll order it in.”

“Or you can just get me coconut milk and I’ll make it.” Harry offered with a teasing tone. “You know you like mine better.”

Snape sighed and shook his head. “I can’t believe you memorized recipes while at the public library.”

Harry shrugged. “I have many talents, Professor.”

“None of which involve your schoolwork.” It would have sounded biting if it wasn’t for the slight crinkle to the man’s eyes. “4pm.”

“4pm.” Harry agreed and waved as the professor turned to walk away.

Harry was smiling as he looked back towards Lupin only to find the man frowning at him. “Does he make you cook?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No, I have to argue with him to cook. It’s the least I can do for him what with getting me away from the Dursleys.”

Lupin grimaced slightly. “I tried to argue with Dumbledore about placing you there but he was insistent. And then I couldn’t even get through the wards to check on you.”

Harry froze. “You tried to check on me?”

Lupin blushed slightly. “Did Severus tell you anything about me?”

“Just that you were friends with my dad.”

Lupin nodded. “We were quite close. When I found out what happened I was overseas. By the time I got back you were already with the Dursleys and… I did try and make a claim for you but without a blood relation it did not even warrant a hearing. The mail redirect wards meant I couldn’t even get a letter to you.” He paused awkwardly. “I’m glad to see Severus is giving you a, a home?” It almost sounded like a question. “Dumbledore told me you were staying with him for the summer.”

Harry nodded and they started walking towards the tube station. “Yeah. I sort of ran away from the Dursleys. And Professor Snape said if I was ever in trouble I could go to him, so Snuffles and I did.”

“Snuffles?”

“My dog.” Harry brightened slightly. “He’s fantastic. Severus is going to take care of him for me during the school year. Snuffles still acts skittish around him but I think they are slowly getting used to each other.”

“Can’t separate a boy from his dog.” Lupin agreed with a smile. “We just need to hop on the tube for a bit and then we’ll walk to the Leaky.”

Harry shrugged. “Severus gave me muggle money in case. I need to stop at Gringotts though before we do any shopping.”

Once settled in for the short ride, Harry couldn’t help but ask. “So you knew my dad? Severus told me a lot about my mum but, I know he didn’t get on with my father so we haven’t really talked about him much.”

Lupin gave a harsh snort. “That is an understatement. Those two couldn’t be in the same room without curses flying. Sirius,” Lupin stopped what he was going to say, his expression crumpling.

“It’s okay.” Harry patted the man’s arm. “I know Sirius Black was one of your friends and my godfather. It’s okay to talk about him. I imagine it’s, it’s a little like the man you knew died with them.”

Lupin nodded, and swallowed thickly. “It rather is.” They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride.

When they reached the Leaky, Harry pulled his hat down lower and kept his gaze down as they walked through the pub. Lupin seemed to get the desire for anonymity and rather than call attention to them as Hagrid had done, he slipped easily through the light crowd and then deftly maneuvered them into the Alley. Gringotts stood tall and proud as they made their way towards it. Lupin, for some reason, hesitated on the steps.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked.

“I just haven’t been in here in years. I, I don’t have a vault of my own.”

Given the shabby state of his robes Harry suspected he had nothing to put in a vault. “You can wait here.” He offered.

“No, no it’s fine. Last time I was here I was with your father actually.” Lupin smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I was helping him sort out some of the Potter holdings.”

“Holdings?”

Lupin sighed. “I don’t suppose Albus has explained any of that to you?” Harry shook his head and Lupin rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “You are the heir to the Noble House of Potter, and because of, because of Black the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You could claim the Potter Lordship now, if you wanted, but the Black can’t be claimed till…” He trailed off.

“Right.” Harry sighed. “And I suppose there’s a lot of stuff that goes along with all that, stuff I probably should have learned as a kid and will now have to spend hours and hours reading about with Hermione telling me off for not asking questions earlier?”

That got a laugh out of the man. “Most of it you can’t do anything about till you are out of school anyway, like claiming the family seat on the Wizengamot. But you might as well claim the Lordship. It has a few perks.”

They walked up to the first free teller and then, rather than the carts, were lead into a back room. “Hand please.” The Goblin asked without inflection. Lupin nodded and Harry stuck out his hand. He winced slightly as the Goblin pricked his finger with a blade he seemed to make appear out of thin air. With a tug, his hand was turned over onto a piece of parchment.

“Lord Potter.” The goblin pronounced when the blood pooled into a ring. “Take the ring please.” He commanded.

Harry snatched it up and, after looking at Lupin for instruction on what to do, slipped it onto the finger the professor mimed.

“Do you wish to make a withdrawal?” the goblin asked, just as emotionlessly.

“Yes?” Harry answered, a little uncertain.

“Trust vault or main vault?”

“Trust.” Lupin stepped in. “And Lord Potter would like a full accounting of all assets and holdings.”

The goblin eyed the man. “Are you returning to your role as Steward to the Potters?”

Lupin’s eyes flickered to Harry. “Yes, yes he is.” Harry answered quickly, vowing to find out later what exactly that meant.

The goblin huffed, seemingly pleased all of a sudden. “The House of Potter has been without stewardship since the last Lord’s death. I’ll have all the necessary papers sent to you, Steward Lupin.”

“Thank you” Lupin bowed just a bit. “Now, Harry should have a money pouch tied to his trust vault, pre-loaded with, say 200 gallons? Would that be sufficient, Harry? If you need more it will refill at the end of the month.”

“Like an allowance?” Harry’s eyes bulged. “I never spend that much in a whole year.”

“Well, if you don’t spend it, it will just return to the vault no harm.” Lupin nodded to himself. “And let’s see, about 1000 for school shopping. You’ll need new robes which are always pricey.”

“Another 1000 for the steward.” The goblin suggested, eyeing him up and down. “To present the proper image.”

“No,” Lupin shook is head. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Yes it is.” Harry insisted, getting a better idea of what was going on. “If you’re going to have an official role in my House, then you should look like we take care of you, right?” He turned to the goblin who nodded. “It would reflect badly on me if you weren’t kitted out.”

“I’m not offering to do this for money, Harry. James never liked to handle the business side of things, so I did this for him and things must be a mess without any oversight for so long I thought I’d just clean it up a little….”

“Did he do a good job?” Harry asked the goblin. “Before, for my father?”

“Mr. Lupin was an excellent steward. He increased the Potter holdings by over 35 percent in the three years he held the post before the war, and during an economic downturn.” The goblin supplied, his eyes glittering a little, likely at the prospect of more gold coming to the vaults. “And, forgive me for the presumption, but your holdings have diminished substantially without tending. It would be wise to have someone with experience provide direction until you are of age to oversee them yourself.”

“Okay.” Harry nodded. “But why did you stop?” He asked Lupin.

The man sighed. “When a Lord dies all such contracts are suspended. I couldn’t continue without your permission or the permission of your guardian.”

“Dursley’s would have taken every galleon I had.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “They aren’t dipping into my vaults are they?”

“No, only your magical guardian has had access.” The goblin’s eyes glittered dangerously.

Harry had a bad feeling. “And who is my magical guardian?”

“Albus Dumbledore.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You’ve been quiet since you returned.” Snape stated in a careful voice while Harry dished up their curry later that night. “Did everything go alright in Diagon?” Snuffle’s head popped up at that.

Harry slid into his seat at the table and stared down at his plate. “I guess.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “That is not a sufficient answer.”

“Prof. Lupin was the steward for dad, taking care of stuff.” Harry explained while moving his rice around in a circle with his fork. Snuffles slide up to rub against his leg in support. “He had me claim the Potter Lordship at Gringotts, and the goblins got all excited, and we left with a mountain of paperwork. Apparently things haven’t been handled since…” he trailed off.

Snape took a slow bit of his food before asking, “And he has returned to the position of steward?”

“It seemed like a good idea. I have no idea what any of it means.” Harry twisted the ring on his finger nervously. “He asked me to call him Remus, and he got me a few books about stuff I should know.”

“Do you want to know if you can trust him?”

Harry shook his head. “The goblins like him, and they don’t like anybody. I think that’s reason enough to trust him with my money. It’s just, why didn’t I know about there being things that needed done? I would have at least tried to learn about it, and do something. Nobody ever mentioned it!” Harry’s voice raised at the end and he glared at nothing. “Why does everyone always keep secrets from me?”

“By everyone you mean the headmaster.” Snape clarified, pushing his plate away. “Albus is your legal magical guardian and it should have been him who took you to claim your Lordship when you turned 11 and entered our world. Prior to that, he could have authorized Lupin to continue as steward instead of letting the House flounder.”

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, crossing his arms and digging his nails into his palms, he clenched his fists so hard. “He’s always telling me half-truths and keeping secrets about me. Don’t I deserve to know about my own family!”

“Yes, you do.” Snape agreed calmly. “Albus has many motivations, Harry. Not all of them will coincide with your best interests.”

“He pretends to care about me.” Harry frowned. “I just don’t know why he bothers. The kindly grandfather act must have a purpose.”

“He does care, as much as he is able.” Snape gave a tired sighed. “Albus is not a normal man, Harry. He’s incapable of the kind of care and affection a child deserves. He means well, he intends to care, but he is constantly distracted by what he sees as the greater need, the greater good – and he will put anyone’s needs aside to aid what he feels is a more worthwhile goal, or a larger one.”

“How can abandoning me with the Dursley’s and hiding information about my family be for the greater good?”

“I do not know.” Snape admitted, his dark eyes gleaming with barely contained emotion. “But clearly something more than either of us is aware of is in play and has been since the night your parents died. What, I do not know. His actions in regards to you make little sense. In truth, many of his actions in the last few years are inscrutable. He is extremely upset that you are staying with me, for example, which is hardly unprecedented. Minerva has had several students spend summers with her when families were unable to care for them, Filius as well. As a Head of House it is not at all unusual to be called on for such.”

“But you’ve never done it before?”

Snape sighed softly. “I have, but not here. In the past when it was necessary I took the child to the Malfoy’s. They are always willing, and to a degree eager ,to have more children around. Narcissa always wanted a big family and when she could not, she compensated by extending hospitality to any in need. For a Pureblood family, the concept of Hospitality is sacred. The right of Sanctuary even more so. For obvious reasons it was unwise to ask for their assistance in your case.”

“I prefer breathing, thanks.” Harry only half joked. “You said something to the Headmaster about Sanctuary before. What does that mean?”

“It is complicated.” Snape motioned towards Harry’s plate. “Eat and I will explain.” He waited until the boy took a mouthful to continue. “To understand Sanctuary one must understand Hospitality. They are too entwined not to be considered related.” Snape settled back into his chair, his voice taking on a distinct air of lecture that Harry knew well. “Hospitality is tradition not law, but it requires that anyone who calls on a house be given certain curtsies. I believe many muggle cultures have similar rules about offering food or drink to a visitor, of assuring safety while anyone is accepting hospitality, that sort of general politeness is fairly universal. There are, however, a few meaningful differences. In the old days, before the Floo network and portkeys, weaker witches and wizards who did not have the power to apparate, or who had children, were confined to the same physical transport as muggles. Long journeys were especially dangerous because at any time muggles could realize there was a witch or wizard passing through their town. Children were particularly in danger with their accidental magic. Therefor it was considered the height of rudeness to not offer a place to sleep should evening fall while a guest was present. This was doubly so if there was a child involved. It was not uncommon during the witch trials for a child to be left in the company of strangers for days or weeks if a family was forced to move. The parents would continue on in their journey, scout out safe routes and other lodgings along the way, find a new home even, and then return for the child. During their absence the child was always extend the Right of Hospitality. It was understood that any village could turn on any of us at a moment’s notice, and so by extending the right to a stranger’s young one you would, it was hoped, be offered the same if you were ever in need. As certain Houses grew in wealth and stature, their homes became way stations along the refugee routes. The Black’s had a home in London, for example, that was often the first point a family in danger in the larger city could rest. They would then guide them onto the next stop and so forth. This was how the floo network was born. Several of the oldest families worked together to find a way to travel between their homes without anyone having to go outside the wards. The large fireplace in the Great Hall at Hogwarts was once the main way of reaching the school for most children. They would floo in from one of the old houses where they were either waiting under Hospitality, or as times darkened Sanctuary.”

“And what’s the difference between Hospitality and Sanctuary?” Harry asked, mentally starting to capitalize both words.

“Sanctuary is not temporary, as Hospitality generally is.” Snape shook his head as if the topic actually hurt. “It was not uncommon for parents to leave a child at a safe haven under Hospitality and never to return. Sanctuary was born out of the necessity for those children to be cared for and kept safe. The old families felt that they had made a promise with their extensions of Hospitality to keep the young ones from harm while under their roof. They would not abandon them or refuse them shelter. But with no hope for the parents to return, the child required legal and social protection as well as room and board. Sanctuary is not only custom but law. A House can extend Sanctuary to anyone, usually a child, and in doing so they fall within the protection of that House. To harm that child is to harm the House of Sanctuary. The child is considered a member of that House until they are of age, treated the same as any other child born into it. It is a sacred duty.” Snape paused as if weighting his next words carefully. “As time has moved on Sanctuary has become more than a way to protect orphans, but rather a way to protect anyone in desperate need. Nowadays it most often invoked in cases of abuse.”

Harry’s heart felt tight. “You told Dumbledore you wouldn’t turn me away, because I asked for Sanctuary. I didn’t know it existed so I couldn’t have asked.”

“Not in those words, but your arrival here was the intent needed.” Snape admitted. “According to the law I could not offer Sanctuary, it must be requested, and it must begin as Hospitality. So, when you were here the first time with Arthur and spent the night, that was under the rights of hospitality. You had indicated there was unpleasantness at the Dursley’s which I saw firsthand. When I offered you the portkey back, knowing you were returning to potential danger, and you took it, that was the first step to invoking Sanctuary. When you activated the portkey you, and that dog and your bird, all fell automatically under Sanctuary to the House of Prince.” Snape took a deep breath. “Not that the House of Prince is much to look at. My mother’s family squandered what money they had before I was born and nearly disowned us both. My grandfather had no other options for an heir so the title at least came to me. So far the only benefit I’ve seen from it is that I can, as Head of a House, offer you Sanctuary. Even if this house is the only dwelling in which we can reside, the great house long gone.”

Harry took a drink of water to try and think through what he’d just been told. “The laws sound really old. Are they still in use?”

“I received Sanctuary as a teen from the House of Malfoy.” Snape admitted, his eyes narrowing at the memory. “My mother died when I was late into my 6th year and my father refused to allow me to return home. I did not return to this house until he’d passed away around the time you were born. Your grandfather extended Sanctuary to Sirius Black under the House of Potter some time in his fifth year I believe. I know of at least three more cases during my tenure at Hogwarts.”

“Oh.” Harry stared down at his plate. “So when you told Dumbledore you’d invoked Sanctuary it, it meant…”

“That I was telling him to bugger off.” Snape smirked at the expression on Harry’s face. “I didn’t argue with him about you going back to the Dursley’s next summer because he has absolutely no legal ability to send you there now that you are under my protection. His guardianship of you was insufficient to keep you from requiring Sanctuary, so under the laws of magic his claim is now secondary to mine. Of course that won’t be official unless the Ministry tests the magic invoked, but Albus won’t go that far. He knows the Rights as well as I, and he knows they cannot be undone. So long as I continue to offer you the full Rights of Hospitality, you will remain under Sanctuary. Now that you’ve claimed your Lordship he would have an additional hurdle to returning you to your _family_.” Snape sneered the last word. “Technically you are able to extend Sanctuary to yourself if need be, as Lord Potter protecting a child.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That is magical law.”

“Why,” Harry started to ask but then stopped.

“You can ask me questions, Harry. I will always do my best to answer.”

“Why didn’t the Weasley’s ever…” he trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish the question.

“Because Arthur doesn’t have a Lordship.” Snape explained gently. “They are an old family but they were never aristocracy. The law of Sanctuary can only be invoked by the Lord of one of the noble houses. Prince is a minor house, but Noble. The Weasley’s aren’t.”

The fluttering in his chest eased slightly. “So it’s not that they didn’t want me?”

“They’ve tried to adopt you several times, Harry.” Snape reached a hand out and let it rest heavily on the boy’s shoulder. “I suspect that was one of the major reasons Arthur brought you to me, more than your desire to help your friend. He knew I could invoke Sanctuary while he could not.”

“So this means that I’m, I’m part of your family at least until I’m of age?” Harry finally asked, softly, unable to look at his professor as he painfully asked the question burning his throat.

“Always.” Snape promised, squeezing his shoulder. “I will always consider you family, Harry. And you will always be welcome in my home.”

BREAK

The day before they were to return to Hogwarts found Harry in the potions lab helping with a fairly large batch of the potion for Millie’s mum. A member of the family was supposed to be by that evening to pick it up. It was just as fascinating to watch Snape brew it for the second time as it had been the first.

“Why do you do that extra little stir?” He asked, peering down into the caldron as Snape did a particularly complicated movement with his stirring rod.

“It’s the rune for protection.” Snape explained. “You won’t get to that until NEWT level, but runes combine with many of the more advanced potions. There is a school of thought that says it is unnecessary…”

Harry snorted. “If it was unnecessary you wouldn’t be doing it. So the people that say that probably just don’t know how.”

Snape’s grin was feral. “I’d give you points but we haven’t started classes.”

Harry’s good mood dimmed. “I think this is the first time I’m not looking forward to going back. I mean, I miss everyone but it’s nice, you know. Being here.”

Snape set the potion to boil and motioned for them to go up the new staircase and back into the kitchen. Snuffles was waiting for them at the top, eager as usual to be reunited with his wandering boy. “I find I am equally unenthusiastic about our return.” Snape paused and then went to the sink to fill the kettle. “Normally I stay at Hogwarts over the holiday break, however, if you wish we could return here.”

“Really?” Harry asked, eagerly. “Ron and Hermione stayed last year to keep me company but I hate that they do that. They should spend time with their own families, you know?”

“I would have to be gone one evening. The Malfoy’s throw a Winter Solstice gathering that I cannot skip without being rude. However, it is only one night… you haven’t celebrated the solstice have you?”

“Nope.” Harry smiled and bounced to the cupboard to pick out cups for them both as Snape prepared the pot. “So I won’t know what I’m missing. You can fill me in all the culture stuff muggle raised me doesn’t know after the fact.”

“I’m starting to think Granger knows more about wizarding culture than you do.”

“Probably.” Harry admitted with a shrug. “She used to pester Ron to tell her about stuff, but he’s like the anti-culture person. Neville answered a few questions and then started hiding from her. She can get a little over enthusiastic.”

“Quite the perfect description of her.” Snape agreed with a sneer. “To make a slight change of subject, I have been corresponding with Ms. Bulstrode and we’ve agreed to meet Sunday evenings for me to teach her how to brew the necessary potion. Would you also be interested in attending?”

Harry froze. “You think I could?”

“I don’t see why not. You lack attention to detail in your brewing, and a base line of knowledge that would aid you in understanding the ingredient interactions but you aren’t a menace the way Longbottom is. The Potter’s have historically been quite adapt at brewing – it is in a way your heritage. You should know something more about it than the paltry elementary knowledge I am able to impart to the average dunderhead.”

“I’m going to choose to take that as some sort of twisted compliment.” Harry set the cups down at the table and slide into his chair.

Sometime later, while Snape was busy bottling up the potion, the doorbell rang. Harry peaked through the side window and then rushed to open the door. “Millie!” Harry grinned ear to ear.

His friend’s jaw dropped. “Harry? What are you doing here?” Never the less she returned his enthusiastic hug and stepped inside. An older man, not quite as tall as her father but clearly taller than the average wizard followed her inside.

“It’s a little complicated.” Harry shrugged off her questions. “Severus is finishing the potion. He’ll just be a minute.”

“Harry, this is my cousin Magnus.” Millie introduced.

“Hello.” Harry greeted the man with a smile. “Millie talks about you all the time in her letters.”

Magnus laughed softly. “When she told me she was friends with the Boy Who Lived I almost didn’t believe her. But then my uncle confirmed it.” He bent down and rubbed a hand gently over Snuffle’s head when he approached cautiously to sniff out the new people.

“Why don’t you come in and have some tea while we wait.” Harry offered, gesturing towards the new sitting room.

His friend and her cousin seemed nervous, as if unused to being invited into places, and Harry made special effort to make the tea tray up.

“They here?” Severus called up the staircase.

“Just making them tea.” Harry called back. “Millie came with her cousin Magnus.”

“I thought she might.” Snape appeared, carrying the crate full of potions, enough to last till summer. “Why don’t you take them the cupcakes we got yesterday? We leave tomorrow morning and won’t have time to finish them all ourselves. I need to finish bottling up the rest of this batch for the Flitwicks. Magnus offered to deliver it as well since they live on the other side of the village. I’m sure you know how to offer hospitality as well if not better than I.”

Harry nodded and added the cupcakes to the tray. “Take your time. They seem nervous enough with just me.”

“I doubt they are used to being welcomed into a wizarding home.” Severus admitted with a frown before turning and going back down into his lab.

Harry carried the tray in and set it down on the little table in front of the sofa. “Severus and I spent the summer redoing the house.” Harry was rather proud of their work and his friend and her cousin were the first to see it. “I didn’t know it, but my mum’s family was from here. We went to a local antique store and they had several of my grandparent’s things.”

“That’s amazing.” Millie looked around the room. “Anything in here?”

“The two really ugly chairs over there.” Harry pointed at them. “The rest of it is upstairs. It’s not much, but I haven’t ever had anything that belonged to mum.” He looked down at his cup of tea. “The cupcakes are from the little shop that opened up where my grandparent’s used to have their photo shop.”

“They are very good.” Magnus spoke softly, almost tentatively. “Millie said you were living with your mum’s sister…”

“Aunt Petunia.” Harry sipped his tea. “But not anymore. It’s, it’s a bit of a secret where I am now.”

“Professor Snape’s offered you Sanctuary, hasn’t he.” Millie stated rather than asked. “That’s why your letters changed half way through the summer, right after you visited me.”

Harry nodded, not looking up to see their reactions. “You can’t tell anyone. Severus says you two can be trusted, that we’ve already got secrets between us so this isn’t anything more, but it’s important nobody knows what he’s done for me.” He pitched his voice quieter and looked up at his friend. “I have to protect him, Millie. If people knew, if the Malfoy’s knew…”

She reached a hand out to squeeze his knee. “We won’t tell anyone. But I don’t think the Malfoy’s would cause you or the professor trouble, Harry. They follow the old ways, and Sanctuary is a pretty sacred concept to that lot. You need to be more worried about Parkinson and her crowd, the nouveau Pureblood crowd. They are the real fanatics.”

Magnus snorted. “They feel insecure in their status so they like to make trouble for others. Makes ‘em feel better about themselves, like people won’t possibly question their purity if they are constantly pointing fingers. The Malfoys, the Goyles, and the Crabbes won’t cause you trouble, the Blacks wouldn’t either if they were still extant.”

“I thought the Parkinsons were part of that silly 28 thing.” Harry frowned. “At last Pansy brags about it.”

“They are, but that list is pretty recent.” Magnus took a second cupcake when Harry motioned him towards the plate. “They barely made the cut and the older families have never let them forget it. They weren’t Noble at the time either. Now, Pansy’s dad managed to get himself a title – questionable means I hear – but it’s not a hereditary one. His seat on the Wizengamot was elected. He can get voted out like a commoner.”

“Oh.” Harry mulled that knowledge over. “I’m not sure I understand all that. I didn’t even know it was a thing until this summer.”

“I can explain more when we get to Hogwarts, or I’m sure Longbottom can. His family is Ancient and Noble.” Millie offered. “The Bulstrodes were never noble, but we’re an old family.”

“Old and poor as dirt.” Magnus offered with a shrug. “But frankly I think it’s better that way. Who wants to have to navigate all those politics?”

Harry shifted slightly, thinking about his lordship ring. “It all seems silly to me.”

“See, this is why I like him. He’s too ignorant to be arrogant.” Millie joked. Reading the lowered mood in her friend she changed the subject. “So, what electives did you finally decide on?”

“Ron wants us to take divination, says it’s easy. But I opted for Runes. Seemed more practical.” Harry latched onto the topic change. “Severus uses them for the potion for your mum, and they came in handy with the house. I just, I thought I might like to learn more. So I owled Professor McGonagall and asked to change. She seemed almost relieved in her letter back.”

“I’d suggest everyone should drop that blasted course.” Snape’s voice gruffly interrupted from the doorway. “Anything is preferable to that insipid nonsense.”

Millie, eyes wide, croaked out “Can I change too then?”

“I already got an extra rune’s textbook for you.” Harry offered with a grin. “Something told me you’d want it.”


	10. Chapter 10

Prof. Lupin was asleep in one the back compartments on the train when Harry slid into place. Snuffles was going to Hogwarts with Prof. Snape, since travel by train with such a large dog would have been difficult. Harry was earlier than usual and could have grabbed an empty compartment, but he’d wanted a chance to talk to the Professor anyway, and this might keep his friends from being too aggressive questioning him. 

Harry watched through the window as Millie’s dad and Magnus dropped her off. She looked sad, standing there on the platform saying goodbye, and if matters were different, if their world was different, Harry would have met her with a hug and some chocolate, and company. But it wasn’t safe for her to be seen with him, and so he watched sadly while she lugged her trunk into the train and then past his compartment towards one of the empty ones, with nothing but a quick guilty look in his direction. If she was lucky the other Slytherins would leave her alone with her books for the journey – if she was unlucky Harry knew she’d have to put up with hours of snide comments and belittling looks.

Before long, Neville appeared, looking relieved to be escaping his grandmother’s eagle eye, and Harry motioned for him to join him when he entered the train. “Who’s that?” Neville asked in a whisper and pointed at Lupin. “He’s got the Potter crest on his satchel.”

“Remus Lupin.” Harry answered back just as softly and with a smile. “He’s the Steward for my house and he’ll be our defense professor. I met him this summer. He’s really nice.”

Neville nodded. “I didn’t realize you had a steward, although it makes since. Gran takes care of all that stuff for me.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “My dad’s still alive, so we can’t do a lot. But with him not able to…”

Harry didn’t know the full story about Neville’s parents, he’d assumed they were dead until Malfoy had made a couple nasty comments last year. Whatever it was, his friend would tell him when he was ready. So Harry tossed an arm over Neville’s shoulders in support and nudged him onto a seat. “I didn’t even know Houses were a thing till this summer. Remus gave me some books to read. I feel like an idiot for not asking more questions.”

Neville shrugged. “Not like it means much while you’re still underage. You can’t really do much as Lord Potter,” He nodded towards the ring peeking out of Harry’s robe sleeve, “until you get your seat on the Wizengamot and you can’t claim that until you are 15 at least. There’s probably a big house somewhere under wards but it will keep until you claim it. There’s got to be at least one elf there to manage things if it’s like any of the other great houses.”

“Oh, I didn’t even think of that.” Harry glanced towards the still slumbering Lupin. “I’ll have to ask. I don’t want to leave any elves alone like that if there are any. I think they’d go a little crazy without anyone around.”

“Probably.” Neville agreed. “How was your summer?”

“Pretty good for a change.” Harry smiled widely. “Half way through I got to go to a safe house, you know because of Black? It was fantastic. I have an invite back for the holidays so I won’t have to stay at Hogwarts.”

Neville’s eyes widened slightly. “You got offered Sanctuary didn’t you?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about that.” Harry dropped his head. “For security reasons.”

“Gran wanted to, you know.” Neville admitted in a tight voice. “When she heard you were with muggles. But she can’t – she’s not the head of house, and dad isn’t able to. Not that you’d have liked it at Longbottom Keep but you’d have been welcome.”

“Thanks, Nev.” Harry bumped his shoulder. “I know the Weasley’s tried to adopt me but they didn’t have the option of Sanctuary and apparently nobody would let them. Even Remus tried. It’s nice to know I wasn’t just tossed to my aunt when nobody wanted me.”

“Gran says da and mum were petitioning the Ministry the minute they heard, but then they were attacked a few days later.” Neville gave a large sigh. “After that there wasn’t a point. They couldn’t care for me or themselves let alone you. The petition was dropped. Gran’s never forgiven the Ministry for that. She has a long rant every time she sees you at the station.”

“Tell her I appreciate it but I’m okay now.” Harry smiled extra wide. “It’s really great where I am, Neville. I didn’t expect it to be, but I’ve got my own room and I got to decorate it anyway I wanted. I got to pick out the furniture and everything. And the kitchen’s pretty old fashioned but it’s mine you know? They let me cook whatever I want. I bought a new set of pans even.”

“Oh. That’s, that’s great Harry.” Neville looked at him a little funny. “You like to cook?”

“Yes.’ Harry squirmed slightly. “Is that a problem?”

“I like plants, Harry, why would you cooking be an issue?” Neville grinned at him. “it’s just unexpected.”

Pretty soon Hermione appeared, her new orange cat protesting his cage with a steady low growl that made Neville back into the corner of the seat. Once she let him out, the cat bounced over to Lupin and promptly went to sleep against his leg. The professor mumbled something and shifted in his seat slightly, almost curling around the creature. It made Harry giggle slightly. He’d have to ask the professor if he liked cats later. Ron and the rest of the Weasley’s were late as usual, bumbling into the platform just minutes before the last warning whistle. Ron made such a clatter trying to pull his trunk into the compartment Lupin woke with a start. 

“Oh!” The man shook his head and blinked tiredly. “Let me help you with that.” He offered, going to stand up only to fall back into his seat as the train lurched into life. 

“I’ve got it.” Ron gave a mighty tug and managed to finally get the heavy thing over the slight bump and then leaned it against the side wall. “Darn luggage compartment was full.”

“Crookshanks, no!” Hermione screeched as the cat, disturbed by Lupin’s attempt to stand up, stretched and then launched itself at Ron’s pocket where a skinny limp tail was sticking out.

“Oh no.” Lupin reached out and quickly caught the cat. “No eating other pets, kitty.” The cat hissed at him but the man just smiled and held him tighter until it gave up with an indignant cat huff. 

“Prof. Lupin,” Harry smiled and gestured to Hermione. “This is Hermione Granger,” he pointed to Ron, “Ronald Weasley and his sister Ginny, and Neville Longbottom.” He ended with the boy sitting next to him. “Guys, this is Remus Lupin. He’s going to be our DADA professor this year. And he’s the Steward for the House of Potter.”

“Oh.” Hermione stood up quickly and held out her hand. “Delighted to meet you, sir. You’ll have to tell us all about what a steward does. I’m afraid I’m still trying to learn about such things.”

Ron, looking slightly uncomfortable bowed slightly. “Ah, Steward Lupin, ah….” His nose scrunched up as if he was trying to remember something.

“Oh, no formal greetings please.” Lupin waved off whatever Ron was about to say. The older man smiled a little, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “I’ve never been big on the formalities, and really I’m just filling in until Harry finds someone more to his liking.”

“Dad picked you and the goblins like you. Unless you want to quit I don’t see a need to go looking.” Harry shook his head, the man clearly needed some self-confidence. 

Lupin just looked more uncomfortable until he turned to look at Neville. “Are you Frank and Alice’s boy?” Neville gave a slight nod, his eyes widening at the question. “I knew your parents well.” Lupin gave the timid boy a real smile then and sat back down. “I used to visit them regularly until they put more restrictions on the ward. How are they?”

“Same.” Neville admitted, glancing at the others in the cabin as if unsure their reactions. “I suppose no change is better than a downgrade.” He shifted slightly in his seat. “When did they start restricting visitors?”

“A few years ago.” Lupin looked away and out the window. “I think your grandmother was worried that someone would try and take advantage of your father’s condition.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed with a sigh. “He could still sign his name if you asked just right, at least until last year. He fell and broke his wrist and since then he doesn’t hold a quill well.”

Ron, clearly confused, opened his mouth to ask what they were talking about but Hermione smacked him and gave him a look. She mouthed ‘later’, and the red head sat back reluctantly into the seat. Ginny, better able to sense the need for a new topic, cleared her throat. “So, professor, any plans for start of term we should be aware of? I want to be prepared for class.”

“Well, first thing I thought I’d do a little review, get a feel for where everyone is.” Lupin announced, looking contemplative. “What were your last professors like?”

The entire compartment groaned. “Bloody awful,” Ron answered with a wince. “So far they both tried to kill Harry.”

“Really Ron,” Hermione crossed her arms. “Lockhart may have been incompetent but he wasn’t out to get Harry.”

“He tried to Obliviate us both.” Harry argued indignantly. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes but that wasn’t an attempt to kill you.”

“Wait, he tried to what?” Lupin asked, his voice rising in alarm. “And what happened first year?”

“Guys maybe we should just…” Harry was cut off by the rest of the compartment rather gleefully filling in the man on every detail of the last two years, much to his consternation. By the time they were done, it was starting to get dark and Lupin looked shell shocked.

“Harry,” the man turned large worried eyes to the teen. “Does, does…” he paused as if to search for how to ask the question in mixed company. “Does your new guardian know all of this?”

Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore knows.”

The new DADA professor frowned. “Somehow I don’t think that translates to the rest of the staff knowing. At least not the complete details or I imagine you’d be wrapped in cotton wool and hidden away. The man’s clearly paranoid about your safety.”

The others in the compartment look at each other confused but Harry just smiled. “He’s not so bad.”

Lupin, clearly unsure what to make of any of this, just shook his head. He started to say something else but the train lurched to a sudden stop. “It’s too early for Hogsmeade.” The professor observed and stood from his seat, his hand going towards his wand. The light in the cabin started to dim. “Stay here. I need to see what is going on.” Lupin advised and began to move towards the door. The air turned suddenly inexplicably cold, so cold their breath appeared. 

Before Lupin could make it to the door, the handle turned and a figure cloaked in black and seeming to float filled the doorway. Harry didn’t get a good look at it before his vision was filled with mist and shadow, there was a scream, a flash of green light…

“Harry,” Lupin’s voice was soft and gentle, and Harry could feel the man’s warmth behind him, like he was leaning against him. “Harry, pup, you need to wake up now.”

Harry blinked, his eyes trying to focus. His glasses were slipped onto his face. The first thing he saw was the worried face of Snape hovering in front of him. “What happened?” He managed to choke out. Lupin shifted slightly behind him and a chocolate bar was thrust into his hand.

“Eat.” Lupin advised, running his hands quickly up and down Harry’s arms as if to increase the blood flow. “You gave us quite the scare.”

Harry looked to Severus who nodded before he took a bite of the chocolate. “What happened?”

“Dementors.” The potion master explained in a tight voice. “They stopped the train to search for Black. For some reason you had a terrible reaction to them.”

“I apparated us to the gates of Hogwarts,” Lupin explained, “as soon as the train was clear of them. Neville had a bad reaction as well but not nearly to your level. I sent Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster back to see to the rest.”

Harry blinked and took in his surroundings. “Where am I?” He was laying on a leather sofa of some kind in front of a large fire, with Lupin almost cradling him in his lap.

“My quarters.” Snape pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it out over Harry. “Snuffles is out exploring with Hagrid or he’d be all over you.”

“Oh.” Harry blushed slightly and took another bite of chocolate. “Why is it freezing in here?”

“It’s not.” Lupin went back to rubbing his arms. “The dementors have that effect on people. The chocolate should help.”

“Who screamed?” Harry asked, stuffing another chunk of the chocolate into his mouth. If it helped he’d eat a ton of it – he couldn’t seem to stop shivering.

Severus froze, his hand hovering over another blanket he’d summoned. “You heard a scream?”

“And there was a flash of green before I passed out.”

The two wizards exchanged a look. “No one screamed.” Lupin admitted, his voice strained. “The dementors, Harry they…”

“They force you to relive your worst memories.” Snape held his gaze and Harry saw the pain in the dark eyes. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

His stomach rolled. “That, that was a memory? So that light…” He had to force the bile back from his throat. “Mum…” He took a shuddering breath. “That’s not fair.” He knew it sounded petty but as the moment stretched he didn’t care. “That’s… that’s just not fair! The only thing I remember about my mother is her dying scream?” Harry knew there were tears gathering in his eyes. “That’s, that’s just not fair!”

“No, it is not.” Snape admitted, moving to sit against Harry’s legs, his warm hands settling on his ankles as he tucked the second blanket around him. “And we will correct that as soon as we can. I’ll borrow the headmaster’s pensive and Lupin and I, we’ll share memories with you, so you have better ones. Of your father as well. I’ll even talk to Minerva. She was their head of house, I’m sure she can share a few as well.”

“What’s a pensive?”

Snape smiled softly. “It will let you relive our memories as if you were there. Like a muggle television but you get to be inside it.”

“Oh.” Harry’s heart hammered in his chest. “So I could get to see my mum? Like see her alive, in your memory?”

“Exactly as she was.” Snape promised. “But first finish that chocolate and let’s get you warmed up. The feast will be starting shortly. Will you feel up to it?”

“No but if I don’t go the others will make a huge deal out of it.” Harry sighed and nibbled more on his chocolate. “How long until the cold goes away?”

Lupin, still rubbing his arms, gave a soft sigh. “No idea, Harry. That dementor got much closer to you than I’ve ever heard of them doing when they weren’t about to… well, that’s a conversation for another time.”

“Did you drive it away?” Harry asked, turning to look at his steward.

“I cast a patronus, yes.” Lupin chuckled slightly at the expression on the boy’s face. “I take it you’d like to know how to do that?”

“Given my track record with dangerous things, if they are out looking for Black, and Black’s looking for me, then they are likely to be around me, and I don’t think I want to be unprotected.”  
“He does have moments of logic.” Snape joked, standing up and going over to put another log on the fire. “Stay here, Harry. Warm up. I’ll go frighten the death out of your friends and tell them some rubbish about you causing trouble on the train and being given special treatment against my wishes. They’ll be too mad at me to cause you any grief.”

“You enjoy doing that don’t you?” Harry realized with a start. “Tormenting them amuses you!”

“Weasley is delightfully easy to rile.” Snape admitted with a smirk.

“Slytherins never change.” Lupin chuckled and rested back against the arm of the couch. “Can you at least send some food down here for us?”

“Oh, no. You have to go up with me. The new defense professor is always announced at the feast.” Snape looked slightly gleeful now. “In front of everyone.”

Lupin, a distressed expression on his face, slowly stood. “Who will stay with Harry?”

“Oh I’m fine.” Harry fluffed the blankets over his legs and smirked at them both. “Go on now- go hang out with all the people in the crowded hall. I’ll stay here, eat chocolate, take a nap.”

“He’s rubbing off on you.” Lupin accused, with a slight twinkle in his eye. “I’ll have the elves get you some food.”

“Thank you.” Harry leaned back and tried not to let how badly he was shivering be visible. “Now go on. I’m perfectly fine now.”

Snape, clearly not believing him, just shook his head. “Come on Lupin, the sooner we make an appearance the sooner I can return here and keep an eye on him.”

Once the two professors left, Harry huddled down into the blankets even further, pulling them up to his chin. He could hear echoes still, of that lingering scream, and something told him he’d never get that shade of green out from behind his eyelids. There was a shuffle by the door and Harry turned to see it creak open and Snuffles crept in, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The dog apparently realized something was the matter as soon as he saw Harry and moved quickly to climb up on the sofa to lay almost on top of the boy.

“For the record, Snuffles, I hate dementors.” Harry complained. The dog gave a whine and buried his nose in blankets. “Be glad you weren’t on the train. At least one got on and if it wasn’t for Prof. Lupin driving it off…” Harry shivered violently. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to feel warm.” Harry turned slightly to curl more around the dog and pulled the blanket up over his head. 

He didn’t sleep, but he did lose track of time, and was slightly startled when the door opened again. He was just about to pull the blanket down to see who it was when the voice of the headmaster stopped him. 

“Where is he?” The headmaster asked, a hint of irritation in his tone. 

“Asleep on the couch with the dog.” Snape replied, and Harry could almost feel where the man was as he moved around the furniture to put more wood on the fire. “Poppy was by earlier to look at him, before he woke. She said it was fine to keep him here. She’s got five others in the hospital wing and could use the help.”

“It isn’t proper to have a student in your quarters.”

Harry could almost hear the sneer in Snape’s voice when he replied. “Really, Albus, the boy lives with me during the summer and the holidays. If I had ill intentions I would have hardly waited to act on them until now.” Snape’s robes brushed against the blankets as he stalked past Harry. “His friends know he is safe and being cared for, if not the details of who, I suspect they believe it to be Lupin. He may as well stay the evening here. My quarters are warmer then the dormitories.”

“Severus, I realize you take matters of sanctuary seriously,” Albus started to argue but was cut off by a loud huff rom the potion master.

“Sanctuary is one of the fundamental principles of our society. Of course I take it seriously! What I take even more seriously is the fact that I had to extend it at all! What was that boy ever doing with the likes of Petunia Dursley? Why did you even insist on him being on the train to begin with today? It would have been safer if he came directly here. Seeing as I was also traveling right to Hogwarts it would have made more sense to just bring him with me, and it would have made the train less of a target for Black or the dementors.”

“Harry deserves to experience a normal childhood.” Albus argued back.

Snape snorted. “Harry deserves to survive his childhood. There’s nothing normal about the boy, or his life so far, and I highly doubt either of those is going to change no matter how much he desires otherwise. To pretend he is not the target that he is, to try and manufacture some sort of illusion of normalcy in the face of this unending cold war we find ourselves in is ridiculous. The Dark Lord will return, and that child is going to be a main target no matter what we do. Shuttling him off to muggles that hate him and then putting his life in danger whenever he tries to return to the only place he feels safe – a place where so far his life has been in danger at least three times that I know of so far in the two years he has spent here – is the height of stupidity.”

“There’s no reason to be insulting, Severus.”

“I disagree. Now is the perfect time to be insulting. I find that to be the case whenever I’m faced with the rabid idiocy of my fellow man.”

Albus ignored that in favor of returning to his argument. “It is imperative that Harry spends his summers with his aunt. It’s for his own safety.”

“Well then it is a very good thing that you no longer have a say in it, since that will not be happening.” Snape moved back towards the door and yanked it open. “And he’s not leaving my sight until morning. You may not take his safety seriously but I do. This argument is closed.”

“Severus,”

“Lord Prince when we are discussing matters of my House, of which Sanctuary is a fundamental one.” Severus ground out. “Furthermore, if you wish to continue to badger me over it, I will be forced to bring the matter to the attention of the Wizengamot.”

The Headmaster drew in a sharp breath. “Severus, you cannot…”

“I can and I will. I’ll sacrifice all our plans, toss out the last decade of work, because it won’t matter if the muggles starve him to death before the Dark Lord has even recovered his body.” Snuffles whined and buried his nose deeper into Harry’s side. “Now the matter is closed and I am off duty for the evening and wish to retire. Goodnight.” Severus slammed the door shut with finality and Harry heard him mutter something, a flash of magic filling the room.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep.” Severus’ amused voice started Harry. “I’ve warded the door. It will take Albus at least till morning to break that down. It’s Family Magic.”

Harry lowered the blanket to peer up at the Professor. “Family magic?”

Snape sat down heavily in the chair across from the couch. “Every old family has a list of spells that they have created that are specifically attuned to the hereditary magic that runs through their line. Think of it like muggle genetics – parents pass on their DNA to their children, so do parents pass on their magic. Of course people that aren’t blood relatives can almost always learn spells that are attuned to another’s family magic, but they will never work quite as well as they would for someone of the same blood. As such, families closely guard their spell grimoires. The Prince family was particularly fond of complex warding schemes. Albus, thankfully, has never been good with raising or breaking wards. He’s more the battle magic type than the infiltration or protection wizard.”

“Oh.” Harry sat up as Snuffles pulled away enough to allow him to. “So the Potters used to have something like that?”

“I’m sure they do. It’s probably locked in one of the vaults you haven’t been allowed access to yet.” Snape eyed the table that was covered in untouched food. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

“Not terribly hungry.” Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I’m sorry I’m causing you to fight with the headmaster.”

“Don’t.” Snape reached out as if he wanted to touch Harry but then stopped, his hand falling onto his lap. “Albus does want what is best for you – he does care about you. He’s just blinded by what he sees as necessary and he’s not listening to any of us. I’m not the only one arguing with him about your care. Minerva has given him a earful several times that I know of. Filius too. Hagrid _cried_ in his office after he picked you up first year, begged the headmaster to let you live at Hogwarts. I didn’t know the others had been arguing your case until today. Word spread quickly amongst the staff that I was insisting on caring for you and they quickly offered their support.”

Harry hung his head. “But won’t this affect your spying?”

“To hell with my spying. What’s the point of me retaining my ability to go back to the Dark Lord if you suffer in the mean time? If you are as critical to the war as Albus believes than its best if you reach adulthood without having more reason to join the Dark Lord than fight him.”

Harry was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t want you to put yourself in danger. Spying sounds dangerous. But I also don’t want to be the cause of us losing the war.”

“We are all in danger, Harry. I won’t lie to you. It’s doubtful I will survive the coming conflict no matter what course we take.” Snape leaned forward and this time he risked a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But I swear to you that I won’t go down easily, and I will never leave you willingly. I will not abandon you.”

Harry couldn’t fight the tears that sprang up in his eyes. “You’re the closest thing I have to a parent, Severus. I can’t lose you too.”

Severus pulled him into a tight hug. “I don’t think I could care any more about you if you were my son, Harry. I’m so sorry you are in the position you are in. But you are not alone, never alone.”

“I just want to be Harry, just Harry. I don’t want any of this.”

“I know.” Severus rested his head on the boy’s and just held him. “I know.”


	11. Chapter 11

Harry was one of the first students to breakfast the next morning, wanting to get all the questions over with. Inevitability, the entire school was aware that he’d fainted on the train, and had to spend the night in observation, although thankfully most assumed he’d done so in the hospital wing. The other five students who had been impacted by the dementors were also there, looking shaky and pale, and disinclined to talk about what happened, so it took some of the pressure off of Harry. One of them, a little first year witch, had to be sorted at breakfast since she missed the feast. Harry felt particularly bad for her as the hat called out Slytherin loudly and she had to blink back tears as she shuffled her way slowly to the table only to have the others sneer at her. Snape, seeing what was happening, made it a point to glare at them until Draco Malfoy stood up and moved his plate over to her. Perhaps there was some slight hope for the ferret yet.

Neville and Hermione showed up fairly early as well and took up positions on either side of him to try and block some of the attention he was receiving, Colin Creevy took up the seat directly opposite him, his little brother next to him. Their cheerful chatter was a good distraction and when Ron and the twins joined them a few minutes later Harry was able to at least eat his toast while they kept the conversation going. Millicent kept glancing up at him from the Slytherin table but she made no other move towards him, her worried eyes just kept flickering between him and the rest of her house as if she wanted to do something but knew she couldn’t. Harry gave a small shake of his head to tell her to stay put. It wasn’t worth it.

McGonagall gave out the schedules and Harry glanced at his. Double defense was first, thankfully, which meant Lupin. Hermione pushed her empty plate away and stood up as soon as she’d read over the timetable. “Well, we’d best head to the tower and get your books, Harry. I’ll walk with you so you know the password.”

Ron, still eating his breakfast, made to stand up as well but Harry waved him off. “Finish your breakfast, Ron.” Harry gave him a tired smile. “I’ll grab your books for you and meet at the classroom, alright?”

“Thanks Harry!” Ron smiled at him and then gave him a serious look. “You alright?”

“Mostly.” Harry answered truthfully. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I just want to get to class.”

Remus seemed a competent teacher, Harry was happy to discover, even if the review session he’d planned for the first day was rather disappointing. Apparently there were international standards for Defense education, for all the courses actually, and while Hogwarts never gave them the standardized tests the rest of the ICW used, the OWLS and the NEWTS were based on them. After getting a look at the material expected for a second year it was pretty clear they were all very underprepared. It was third year and many of them couldn’t even rate a passing grade for first! 

Hermione was muttering creative expletives under her breath the entire way to charms. 

“Oy,” Ron complained with a grimace. “You actually passed the second year material. I don’t know what’s got you so upset.”

“My education isn’t something I take lightly, Ronald.” Hermione huffed. “This is my future we are talking about! I’ve always planned to sit the international tests after Hogwarts, not just the British versions, and I knew they were harder and I was doing my best to independently study for them but the sheer gap between the standards being employed here and what I saw on that review practice test was insane. Is it like that for every subject or just Defense? Hogwarts markets itself as the premiere institution for magical education in Europe and I’m starting to question the validity of that claim.”

“Don’t make more work for us.” Ron moaned. “Nobody takes those international tests unless they want to work for the ICW – they are bloody hard. Bill sat them after Gringotts hired him and he swore his brain almost liquefied and dripped out his ears. He had to do a bunch of remedial courses and then re-sit them before they’d let his apprenticeship start.”

That was the wrong thing to tell Hermione. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes. “I need a good education. I can’t, I can’t _do this_ without it. I won’t put up with having less.” She finally managed to warble out, her voice breaking on every other word. “Being muggleborn is bad enough, it closes enough doors, I can’t let a subpar education do even more damage to my prospects.”

“I can ask Remus for the practice tests to the other subjects.” Harry offered. “We can see how bad the problem is before we panic. I mean, other than Defense all the teachers seem to know what they are doing. And we caught this early so we have time to figure out a plan. Or where to transfer to.”

Hermione’s breath slowed slightly. “You are right, Harry. Let’s see how bad it is before we panic.”

“Who’s panicking?” Ron complained as he set down his bag. “What does it matter if the international tests are harder? Just sit the NEWTS like any sane witch and be done with it.”

“Oh, Mr. Weasley, there’s reason enough to take the international panel.” Flitwick informed them, having been listening to the conversation as they walked into his classroom. “Most people with subject masteries do – the apprentice programs for most of the Guild’s require it. You also need them to work outside Britain. Even the United States has signed onto their use. Britain and the Middle Eastern cohort are the only ones that have not.”

“So all the other classes here are taught to that standard?” Hermione asked hopefully.

Flitwick shook his head. “Sadly no. Because Britain lacks a primary school system for magical children there’s a lot of remedial education that goes into the first three years here. We make up for what we can during the 4th-5th years, and try to get as much crammed into 6th and 7th as possible but we usually recommend at least a year of extra study between graduation and sitting for the internationals. I can have study packets made up that cover the weak points if you’d like to see them. I usually hand them out to my Ravenclaws after their OWLS.”

“Yes.” Hermione nodded vigorously. “Please, we’d like to see them. I can’t abide the thought of being behind.”

Ron, looking bewildered, shook his head. “Leave me out of this.”

“I’d like them.” Harry stated with a grim expression. “I want to know the scope of what’s expected.”

Flitwick looked pleased. “I’d be delighted, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger. I expect both of you will do just fine on the internationals for Charms. While I don’t cover all the material you both have a good solid basis. You’ll just need to pick up the extra spells and I have full confidence you can. Hogwarts might not give you the spell repertoire of the other schools, but we give you a much better theoretical foundation and that, I promise you, is better in the long run.”

“See, nothing to worry about.” Ron complained. “No reason to get excited.”

Hermione, turning purple, moved to a different table. Flitwick just shook his head. “Mr. Weasley, a piece of advice. If you wish to remain friends with a witch, do not discount something they consider important as trivial.” The little man turned away to start the lesson.

Later that night Harry met with Millicent in their greenhouse. “Are you okay?” She asked, quickly, her hands running up and down his arms as if checking for injury.

“Yeah,” Harry blushed slightly and then took her hands in his own to stop her fretting. “Really, I’m okay. I think Severus had me stay with him more for his own peace of mind than mine.”

Millicent didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know why you attract trouble. I can’t even be mad at you – you were just sitting in your compartment minding your own business and the living embodiment of depression decides to try and eat your soul.”

“That’s a little melodramatic, Millie.”

“That’s the truth!” She huffed and then pulled him down onto her transfigured pile of pillows in the corner. “There’s a betting pool on what life threatening situation will land you in the infirmary at the end of term. The consensus seems to be something to do with Black. Personally, I figure a dragon.”

“I had a dragon thing first year – not a life threatening situation at all.” Harry laughed and reached into his pocket. “Put five gallons on random Death Eater for me would you? With an extra side of dementor.”

“Potter, that’s mental.” Millicent complained but took the money. “Not sure how you can joke about it let alone bet on it.” She sighed heavily and leaned against him. “It’s just not fair, us having to be so secretive all the time.”

Harry put his arm around her and drew her closer. “I wish I could just plop down next to you in the Great Hall and have a nice meal, chat. I wish I could sit with you during Quidditch games when I’m not playing, and be your potion’s partner. We could have tea on the lawn in good weather and huddle up by the fire in one of our common rooms when it wasn’t.”

“Study in the library together and practice spells in empty classrooms with your friends. Granger could point out everything we do wrong and set all our study schedules so we don’t have to.” Millicent smiled wistfully. “I could visit you in the summer without having to be all cloak and dagger.”

“I could get to know your parents, everyone could come to my birthday party. The Weasleys could go overboard and your cousin could make out with Charlie in the shed.”

“Harry!” Millicent laughed. 

Harry grinned. “We could pit you against the twins in a beaters game, pretty sure Ginny would partner with you. It would be great.”

“It would.” Millicent’s smile died. “If we could do any of it at all.”

“It’s not safe.” Harry reminded her gently. “I don’t want you or your family to have it even worse because of me.”

Millicent closed her eyes as she buried further into the pillows and Harry’s side. “Would it be worse? I’m not so sure. I have no friends, Harry, not a single one but you. Da can’t get work, at least nothing legal, and mum is only alive because of you and the professor. Magnus ekes out a living collecting dangerous potions ingredients in the wild, most of it black market. We aren’t welcome in most shops in Diagon Alley. St. Mungos won’t treat us. The village gets attacked by one hate group or another every couple years and they burn down whatever they can. What do we really have to lose?”

That was a question that plagued Harry all through the next day. It kept leaping back up in his mind and it ate at him. Ron, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice how distracted Harry was, but Hermione, bless her overly observant soul took notice. She cornered him in the common room after dinner. Most of the rest of the house was out either in the library or lingering over their dessert in the Great Hall. Harry, not feeling up to the start of the year joviality, had grabbed a simple tart and left. Hermione must have followed him.

“Alright, spill.” She advised, plopping down into the chair opposite him. They were tucked into one of the corners, and the only other person in the room was a seventh year, nose buried in their books on the far side.

Harry sighed. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” He glanced up at Hermione and then back down. “What you said yesterday, about it being hard for muggleborns, it’s, it’s not something we really talk about. And it’s pretty bad for anyone with creature blood too – nobody talks about it but you can tell, you know? In the silences, in what nobody does say. Flitwick and Hagrid, they should be able to talk about their families, and stuff. And they can’t.”

“Oh Harry.” Hermione shook her head, a fond, tired smile twitching on her lips. “You just now noticing all of that?”

“No,” Harry rubbed his eyes. “I noticed it, but I didn’t want to notice it, if you know what I mean? The Dursleys were so terrible, and getting to come here, getting to learn magic, I wanted it to be magical, you know? Like, like it could be perfect, a complete opposite of where I grew up. Like all the bad was in the muggle world, and this world could be everything that one wasn’t. But all the same stuff is here too, all the hatred and bigotry and ignorance… I wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, so I could keep my perfect magical little bubble but I can’t.”

“I don’t think Ron sees any of it.” Hermione admitted, her voice strained. “Like he notices when I’m called a name, but all the little slights, I think they just breeze right past him. Massive pureblood privilege.”

Harry chuckled darkly. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry I let myself be so willfully ignorant. I just, I never meant to hurt you.”

“You never have.” Hermione reached out and took his hand in hers, their fingers curling together. “You’d never think less of me, or less of Professor Flitwick, or Hagrid, anybody else. One day, when you take your place in that stuffy Pureblood world your father was from, you’ll do what you can to fix it. I know you, Harry. You can’t stand a bully and those bastards are bullies.”

Harry hesitated a moment, clutching her hand a little tighter. “Would you be upset if you found I had another friend? Someone, someone people wouldn’t…”

“If you are talking about Millicent Bulstrode I’m well aware.” Hermione’s eye’s twinkled in amusement. “You two are hardly the most subtle. She keeps looking at you with this pinched worried look in her eyes and you never relax till you can spot her safe and sound in the Great Hall at every meal.”

“Oh.” Harry blushed scarlet. “I, I hope nobody else noticed.”

Hermione snorted. “Those Slytherins don’t pay her any attention at all. Doubt they’d notice if she burst into flames unless it caught them on fire. One or two of the older one’s might have pieced it together but they clearly don’t think there’s anything in for them to point it out. Ron, let’s face it, he won’t notice anything until he walks in on you two naked in the same bed.”

“Hermione!”

She smirked. “Oh don’t even pretend that’s not where it’s heading. We’re thirteen not three.”

“You, you seem okay with it?”

Hermione patted his hand and let it go, leaning back into her chair. “I’d like to meet her, if she’s okay with it. We used to do some revising together in first year but then drifted apart. It would be nice to have another female to temper you and Ron.”

“We have to be secret about it. Her family, they might be in danger…” Harry sighed. “They are already in danger. Millie said, she said there’s been attacks on her village before. Because they have some many people with creature blood living there.”

“That’s terrible.” Hermione shuddered. “That’s just… and the Ministry doesn’t’ do anything?”

“They probably participate.” Harry muttered, his eyes flashing in anger. “We’ve got to do something about it, Hermione. I can’t, I just can’t…”

She nodded silently and then turned to look into the flames in the fireplace, a dark look in her own eye.


	12. Chapter 12

The first Sunday rolled around without further incident and Harry made his way cautiously down to the potion’s classroom. Severus had said to meet him there for extra lessons with Millie.

The room was dark when he arrived but Harry kept his cloak on until Millie slipped inside. “Harry?” She asked, a little hesitantly, and he took it off with a frown.

“Where’s Professor Snape?”

“Waiting on you.” The professor’s voice made them both jump. They turned to find him standing in a shadowed corner a smirk on his face. “Can you both fit under the cloak?”

“Yes.” Harry held it up and motioned Millie forward, carefully arranging it around them. Snape brandished his wand and put a silencing charm on their feet.

“Follow me.” He swept out of the room and down the corridor towards his personal quarters. Rather than take the right hand turn that Harry knew lead to the man’s rooms they took a left and then down another long dark hallway. The door at the far end was blackened with age and had a large lock on it. Rather than that one, they instead went to a more modern door next to it, with a simple standard looking lock that appeared like all the rest down the corridor. Severus pulled the key out from his robes and unlocked it, ushering them inside.

“The other door is a diversion isn’t it?” Harry asked with a smile as he whipped off the cloak.

Severus just smirked instead of answering. “This is my private lab. We’ll meet here each Sunday. It’s more warded than the classroom and we won’t be interrupted. Millicent may arrive without the cloak, no one will question me giving extra lessons to one of my Slytherins, but Harry you’ll need to make your way here under stealth.”

Millicent looked around the room with wide eyes. “This is magnificent.”

“Not quite as well done as my home lab.” Severus admitted. “I haven’t as much time to experiment during the school year so I leave a great deal of the less used equipment behind unless I’m planning something specific. This is really just the fundamentals.”

Fundamentals apparently meant at least one cauldron of each size and material all lined up on one wall. The doorway to what had to be the ingredients cupboard was shimmering with wards and the five tables that made up the bulk of the space were gleamingly clean in the light of the candles Snape lite. Where the potion’s classroom was dark and gloomy, often filled with smoke and fumes, everything slightly yellow with residue and time, this lab was white washed and sterile.

“Now, before we get started, I think it best if we have a little conversation about the fundamentals.” Snape went to the warded cupboard and returned with a tray of ingredients. “I think what’s hampering you both is a lack of understanding of a few of the base skills. This is how you crush and this is how you powder…” Snape set about demonstrating and having them copy out the method for the next two hours. It was not the most exciting of lessons but it did explain why Harry’s potions were always off just the slightest bit. He hadn’t been preparing anything right!

“How come we don’t do this in class?” Millie asked, as they were cleaning up. “That was really helpful.”

Snape hesitated for a moment before sighing. “I wanted to include an entire month worth of prep lessons before we ever brewed a potion but the school budget won’t allow for the extra ingredients and I couldn’t in good conscious ask the students to bring them. Even the cheapest ingredients would be a burden on some families and it takes quite a lot to practice with. Thankfully I needed these ingredients prepared for the infirmary potions so they’ll be used before they expire. But I couldn’t possibly use up what an entire first year class would be prepping.”

“Why don’t you use kitchen ingredients?” Harry proposed, scrapping the last of the trash into the bin before starting to sterilize the table. “I mean, you can practice all day on chopping onions and potatoes and the house-elves could just use the results for soup or something.”

Millie and Snape froze. “That’s….” Millicent started to say and then shook her head.

Snape finally broke his silence. “Potter, there are times you annoy the hell out of me. Usually when you are right.”

Harry grinned, ignoring the slight gibe “See, I keep thinking potions is like really fancy cooking. And it is, really, with extra bits here or there. Makes sense to use whatever is cheaper for practice. The Dursleys never asked me to do anything fancy but I’ve been trying to figure out how to julienne veg all summer at your place and you never noticed or complained about it.”

“Because you always ended up cooking the experiments.” Snape nodded along. “Yes, that does explain all the stews I suppose… but you managed it by the end. And that skill will help you with potions. I’ll have a chat with the elves.”

Harry and Millie finished cleaning, chatting amicably and just generally enjoying being in each other’s company without the fear of discovery. When they finished, Snape checked the hall. “You’re in the clear, Ms. Bulstrode. Off to the common room. We’ll see you here again next Sunday, same time?”

Millie nodded and slide out of the room. Snape and Harry waited so they wouldn’t all be seen leaving together “Sir,” Harry started and then stopped.

“Go on.” Snape offered.

“I know it’s close to curfew, but I haven’t seen Snuffles all week…”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Get under the cloak then.”

Snuffles was enthusiastic, to say the least, and started barking and jumping around as soon as Harry entered the potion master’s quarters, clearly able to smell Harry through the cloak. “Hey boy,” Harry knelt down, pulling the cloak off as he did, and opened his arms for the excited dog. “How is it living at Hogwarts?”

“He’s peed twice on my rug.” Snape groused and the dog looked slightly smug. Harry raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “I did perhaps forget to let him out.” Snape admitted after a long look. “I’m having the elves take him out twice a day now while I’m in class.”

“Good.” Harry rubbed the dog’s ears. “He’s starting to put on more weight, and look like a normal dog.”

“Starvation takes time to heal.” Snape replied back, his dark eyes going up and down Harry’s form. “How are you finding things?”

Harry pulled himself up off the floor and over to the sofa, Snuffles coming with him to lie at his feet. “It’s weird, being back. Ron’s the same old Ron, but Neville, he’s… he’s acting a bit different. I think he thought I was snubbing him or something. He found out on the train that I hadn’t even known that there was a House of Potter. Apparently there’s some sort of long standing agreement between his House and mine and I had no idea. And his gran was trying to get custody of me, his mum was my godmother! So when I didn’t say anything first year he thought I was saying I didn’t think him worthy or something. He’s got self-esteem issues.”

Snape snorted. “That boy has so much potential if he would just apply it.”

“He’s always scared.” Harry admitted, hand curling into Snuffle’s hair. “His great uncle is awful to him. He was always doing nasty things to try and force Neville’s magic out and his gran let it happen. Neville’s convinced the entire family just wants him to die or something so his cousin can take the Lordship. I don’t think he can relax at home at all.”

Snape’s dark eyes glittered slightly in the lamplight. “I hear stories like that mostly from Slytherin families.”

“Pretty sure Slytherin doesn’t have the market on asshole cornered.” Harry muttered, thinking about some Hufflepuff’s and how they’d treated him last year. “And Neville’s family is as old and pureblood as any of that lot. Stands to reason they’d share some of the same ideas if only because they’ve all been inbreeding for so long.”

Snuffles coughed loudly and Harry spent a moment fussing over him. When his attention turned back to the professor it was to find the man eyeing him with a great deal of contemplation. “What?” Harry asked.

“I’m trying to imagine what it is going to be like when you take your hereditary seat in the Wizengamot. It will be glorious.” Snape took a sip of his tea. “You are going to tear into that crowd like a vengeful lion aren’t you?”

Harry’s eyes flickered to the fire. “I’m tired of learning that all my friends are being hurt by this world, Professor. I’m tired of seeing Millie shunned for no good reason, Hermione worrying she won’t get any apprenticeship offers no matter how hard she studies, or Neville nearly being disowned just because his uncle thinks he doesn’t have enough magic. Voldemort isn’t the problem in the wizarding world, he’s a symptom of the real issue. And I have no idea how to fix that.”

“You’ve got years before you need to worry about it. Enjoy the time you have now, Harry, before you take on the entire wizarding world.”

“Not sure they are going to give me a choice, professor. Not sure I want them to either.” Snuffles made a loud whine and pushed is head into Harry’s knee. “But, I don’t think I’ll be alone.” Harry admitted softly, absentmindedly petting the dog. “I think there’s a lot of folks just as unhappy about things as me.”

“Don’t let people hear you talking like that, Harry.” Snape advised gently. “It sounds like revolution. It makes people uncomfortable. The Ministry is already watching you. After last year, and the Parseltongue…”

“You don’t need to be Dark Lord to change things do you?” Harry joked, still paying more attention to the dog than the potion master

When Snape didn’t answer Harry turned to look at him. The man looked grim as he met his eyes. “I think that is a question we do not have an answer to.” He admitted tightly. “Most Dark Lords don’t start out that way, Harry. They try to do things differently and eventually out of frustration they end up what they are. You should ask Dumbledore about Grindelwald sometime. He wasn’t always what he became.”

“Grindelwald? Or Dumbledore?”

Snape just shook his head. “I heard a rumor today and I think you’d best prepare for it.” He was clearly trying to change the subject. Harry let him and gave a nod for him to go on. “Lupin has found a boggart in the staff lounge. He intends to show it to your class. I’m slightly concerned.”

They talked for a while after that, Harry’s mind going over and over what exactly his boggart might be. For a moment he thought it could be something to do with Ron and Hermione, perhaps something bad happening to them? Or Millie, Merlin the idea of Millie hurt, because of her association to him. Even the idea of Snape, being exposed and hurt because of him all flashed through his mind. But there was something darker lurking under all that and Harry swallowed his tea as if it was cement, the realization hitting him like a truck, a common thread through all his concerns. “I think,” He finally admitted in a tight voice, “I think it’ll have something to do with people getting hurt… because of me. To protect me.”

Snape had thought perhaps Voldemort, or even the dementors from the train. There was something extra pained in his expression as he looked at the boy. “You don’t have to face it. We can tell Lupin not to do the lesson.”

“It’s a good lesson, in theory.” Harry considered what Millie’s might be. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to have us all face it as a group. Fears are personal.”

“The staff discussed it and most felt you were too young to have any real pressing terrors.”

Harry snorted “Yeah, I wish.” Snuffles made another whine, a longer one this time, and Harry buried his face in the soft warm fur of the dog’s neck. “I’ll manage, Severus. I always do.”

The next day dawned clear and crisp, the autumn having settled with all its damp glory on the Scottish countryside. The castle was damp in this weather, in most weather actually, and Harry was grateful to have finally purchased some much needed wool socks. He’d always been afraid to buy nice things when he lived with the Dursleys, not wanting them to suspect he had any money stashed away. Ron was making due with his slightly too short robes and Harry felt a pang of guilt that he couldn’t do more for his friend. But if he tried to buy Ron new robes the redhead would get angry and Harry did not want him to feel like he was somehow less just because the Weasleys didn’t have a lot of money to spare. Harry would give everything he owned to have a real proper family like Ron had.

Defense was a double and Harry braced himself as they walked into the room. He hadn’t wanted to worry anyone, so he hadn’t told them about the boggart. Hopefully Snape had managed to talk Lupin into a slight change to his lesson plans.

“Good morning!” Lupin called, cheerfully stepping up to the front of the room. “Please keep your books and wands away. I have something special for you today. Follow me!” He started off out of the room and Harry and the rest followed. Hermione was cheerfully pondering what they could be doing, and where they were going, and Harry had to swallow heavily not to say something to give away how nervous he was for what had to be coming. Ron, seeming to realize that Harry wasn’t his usual self, loyally kept their bushy haired friend entertained while Neville sidled up to Harry’s side like the silent slightly chubby pillar of support that he was turning out to be.

Lupin took them to the staff room. The only person inside was Severus, who sneered with his typical I’m-in-the-company-of-children-whose-parents-like-white-masks-and-Potter-is-in-the-room smile. It was bone chilling. Harry really rather wanted to applaud the acting. “Lupin,” Snape drawled, stalking towards the DADA professor. “You sure you want to do this lesson with this lot? Longbottom there is more likely to injure himself than actually manage anything.”

That was apparently a step too far, and Snape knew if it the slight tightening around his eyes was anything. Harry suspected that most of the really cruel things Snape said happened in the throes of him acting, like lines getting away from him. He was learning to tell when Snape regretted one of his barbs, and when he thought they were funny. It was all in his eyes, the subtle movements just at the corners.

The lesson passed in something of a blur. Lupin, apparently taking Snape’s suggestion personally, used Neville to conduct the opening part of the lesson. Watching Snape turn into an odd mishmash of Neville’s gran and the potion master was not as funny as it probably would have been last year. Harry barely managed to laugh with the rest even though it was fake. Hermione gave him an odd look, clearly recognizing how out of it he was, but she made no comment. Neville looked so proud of himself that Harry tried to muster up some sort of supportive smile, which must have worked because Neville moved back to his side with a genuine smile on his own face.

Once the laughter died down, Lupin had them all line up. Harry’s heart sank when it looked like they were all going to face the boggart one by one in front of everyone but then, something in his face must have tipped off Lupin because the man hesitated, his amber colored eyes boring into Harry’s. “Anybody that wants to face the boggart, move to the front of the line.” Lupin finally instructed and Harry was able to wiggle his way to the back of the line and watch as Ron turned a spider’s feet into roller skates and as Hermione fended of McGonagall with what was apparently a stack of failed exams. There were a few looks, everyone clearly wondering why he wasn't going to the front of the line like he usually does, but Harry let them wonder.

By the time the lesson was over Harry and Lavender were the only two who didn’t have a go. “You two, if you’d like to try alone please stay after.” Lupin whispered to them both and then dismissed the class. Lavender was gone in a flash but Harry stayed.

“You won’t tell anyone?” Harry asked. “Please?”

“Stewarts honor.” Lupin’s eyes were surprisingly gentle as he spoke. “Severus said this would be hard for you.” The man paused, as if considering what to say for a long moment. “You’ve had enough things in your life that can cause fear.”

“Let’s just get it over with.”

Whatever Lupin had expected the boggart to become it was clearly not the sucking emptiness that took hold of the staff room. The inky darkness spread out from the cupboard like slow moving mist, a silence born of death, the absolute absence of life trailing with it. As it passed over the floor of the room shapes started to form from the mist, bodies strewn over the ground in heaps and piles. A hint of red hair there, a dark black professor’s cloak next to it. A rumbled and broken mound of black fur, a hand clutching Millie’s wand but not attached to a body next to it. The sight stretched out as far as the eye could see, an endless battlefield of death and pain, not a soul left to even mourn the fallen.

 _They died for you._ A raspy voice breathed out into the mist and Harry shivered, recognizing the Parseltongue voice of Voldemort. _They wanted to save you and this is what your friendship has reaped. You are no better than I am, Harry Potter._ The mist shuddered as it stopped, just shy of touching Harry’s feet. In the swirling mass was one last body, Tom Riddle from the diary flickering between his 16 year old self and the mess that had been attached to the back of Quirrell’s head. But the worst part was that Voldemort too was dead, sightless eyes staring up at Harry in accusation. _You’ve killed us all, enemy and friend alike. You took the power, Potter, as I knew you would._

“Riddikulus,” Harry stuttered out, wand shaking in his hand. The mist lurched slightly but kept its shape, the bodies unmoving.

Lupin was staring at the sight from the far side of the room, still holding open the cupboard door. The shock was palpable on his face and he made no move to help. The mist was curling near his toes too and that was what finally pushed Harry to action.

“Riddikulus!” Harry shouted with all his might, trying desperately to think of something funny about the devastation in front of him. The only thing he could come up with was a scene from an old movie they’d watched in his muggle school as a treat. It wasn’t funny exactly, but the sea of red flowers that grew up suddenly around the bodies and the golden road that weaved through them was at least tied to something amusing. The Dursley’s had been apoplectic with rage when they found out that their son Dudley had watched a movie with a wizard in it.

It wasn’t the best spell he’d ever cast, but it was enough to give the boggart a nudge, and that was enough to snap Lupin out of his shock. His spell combined with Harry’s and soon enough the boggart was pushed back into the cupboard and the door slammed. Lupin leaned against it heavily and Harry felt his knees give out and the floor rise to meet him.

“Really glad you didn’t volunteer in class.” The man finally managed, eyes closed and head still touching the cupboard door.

“Yeah.” Harry agreed, shivering. “Don’t suppose you can give me a note to get out of transfiguration?”

Lupin’s laugh was genuine and only slightly hysterical.


End file.
